


The best is never good enough.

by DevilBoy



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Abusive Parents, Addiction, Adrenaline, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Anxiety Attacks, Arguing, Bipolar Disorder, Established Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Hate Crimes, Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Internalized Homophobia, Kidnapping, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Protectiveness, This is one big fat trigger warning, Tw: abuse and gaslighting, World Figure Skating Championships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-13 04:20:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 26,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28772244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DevilBoy/pseuds/DevilBoy
Summary: Viktor makes his return to skating while dealing with a new diagnosis and old faces returning to his life. Can he handle it?
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov
Comments: 37
Kudos: 79





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! hope you enjoy this :)

"Vitya? Are you even fucking listening to me?" 

The voice cut through the blur and buzz for a brief moment, causing him to look up from his fixated vision point of a small scuff on the floor, and face his coach. The chatter of the heavily packed rink was more than enough of catalyst to losing focus. He pulled his hands away from where they were absently picking at a loose thread on the sleeve of his team russia jacket, and settled them either side of him as he took a deep breath. 

Today was Viktor's big return to the skating world after taking a year and a half off, and he was due on in approximately five minutes. He had been on track to do an already insane two programs, yet he had been modifying them in secret to be almost superhuman. Even after 20 years, he couldn't get his mother's words out of his head. The best isn't good enough. You can always do better. This is all that matters. Victory or death. You cannot lose.  
Even after he had found himself a husband that loved him beyond measure, and a multitudinal world outside of the ice, a huge part of him still believed in that. 

"I am not telling you twice. Listen to me." Yakov barked, making a few people stare. "You need to focus. You've fucking been all over the place today, what's wrong with you? have you been taking your meds?" 

Viktor's eyes met his in a warning. "don't you fucking dare." 

"well, have you? I don't need you having an episode on me." 

"Of course I fucking have. Just shut up. I'm allowed to be nervous." 

Viktor was rather grateful that he was the only Russian competitor to have qualified in the men's event, because he would be mortified at anyone eavesdropping on the fact he took medication. They'd probably spread the rumours everywhere and get him banned from competing or discredit his whole career by claiming doping or something like that. He couldn't help the awful genetics within his family. His gaze drifted to the rink, reminiscing of all the times he had performed in the past, and how each gold he earned was far less rewarding than the last, and how he felt nothing with his most recent one. He was addicted to pushing himself further and further than he could go, and felt none of the reward. He swallowed nervously as he rolled back his shoulders. This was fine. He could do this. 

He looked over at the skater that was currently performing, a weight off his shoulders once he saw him screw up a jump landing. He stopped for a second, disgusted at the fact he had just smiled at that. He knew how embarrassing that was, and the consequences it brought. He scanned the crowd absent-mindedly, seeing the sea of faces all fixated on this one skater. Too many Russian flags were in the crowd, far too many for one competitor. They were all so excited for the 'king of figure skating' to come back. He screwed his eyes shut, taking a much-too-long blink before catching eyes with a particular woman in the crowd. The very last person he wanted to see right now. Recognising her sent bolts of pressure up his spine. 

"Fuck." he said out loud, making everyone else around him stop and stare for a good few seconds. 

Her hair was the same platinum shade as his, held up by a clip that was steadily falling out. Her face looked tight with age and frustration, yet she was still noticeably beautiful. she was dressed in a long black coat and was sat in the family box, sat in the corner by herself. Her past resting expression of irritation was quickly replaced with a false smile upon noticing him looking at her. There was no mistaking that this was Galina Nikiforov. His mother. The mother that would beat him for messing up jumps, the mother that would work him until he passed out, the mother that would neglect and starve him, the mother that ruined his chance at a normal life, the mother that stood by and watched while his father beat him within an inch of his life and the mother that told him he deserved to die once she found out that he was gay. He instantly felt sick to his stomach, pushing past the rest of the competitors that were stood around waiting. He bolted out into the deserted corridor, suddenly finding it incredibly difficult to breathe and a burning ache brewing in his chest. 

He began panting and pacing, each breath only seeming to burn his lungs. His heart thudded against his ribs at such an alarming pace. The nauseating feeling was creeping up from his stomach to his throat, making him begin to tremble. 

"Viktor?" came a soft voice, a voice full of support and understanding. A familiar, caring and warm voice. 

The surprise of the sudden voice made him trip over, colliding with the wall and successfully knocking all the air out his lungs at once and leaning against it. He felt a knife twist in his chest, a strange pain that he only felt during his teenage years. The kind of pain and pressure you felt before you were about to cry. He attempted an inhale, only for it to catch in his throat and make him start to choke. 

A pair of hands suddenly took his own, and he reflexively looked up, meeting eyes with Yuuri. 

"it's okay... you're safe. you're completely safe. you're right here with me. you're fine." He gave him a small smile in an attempt of comfort as he reached for his water bottle. Yuuri's heart sank at seeing Viktor in such a desperate and uncomposed state, especially out of nowhere being mere minutes from competing, but he didn't even begin the conversation as to why, the need to help him out came instinctively. "You're having a panic attack, I know they're terrifying, I get them all the time. But I'll get you through this, okay?" 

Viktor gave a weak nod before covering his eyes with his hands as years and years all flooded back at once. It felt like that one time, that one competition decades ago... the one he had never forgotten since. A choked, scared, uncontrolled, uncensored, raw sob broke through his composure, sending him into a fit of crying and coughing, which never made for a good combination. 

"Hey..." Yuuri interlaced their hands again as he took a tissue out of his pocket and began to slowly wipe the tears from Viktor's face. "Hey, look at me. what colour are my glasses?" 

"They're... They're blue..." 

"that's great... what colour is that locker?" 

Viktor's gaze moved to the rest of the room as he answered "It's grey..." 

"yeah, that's good. Now, what colour is that bench?" 

"silver..." 

"you're doing brilliantly, a few more, okay?" he waited for Viktor's small nod before continuing.  
"what colour is the ceiling?" 

"white... Yuuri why are we-" 

"shh... just go with it for a little longer. I can tell its already working. What colour is that wall you're sat against?" 

Viktor tilted his head to look at the very obviously green wall, visibly rather confused as to why his husband was asking the colour of every single object in the building. 

"It's a grounding exercise for panicking, always effective. helps you focus on the here and now instead of what's making you on-edge. You feeling any better?" He asked, a little worried when Viktor gave no answer. "sweetheart?" 

"Yes... actually. thank you." 

"It's okay," he smiled, offering Viktor his water and rather pleased when he seemed to calm down further after having some. "so... what set this off? do you know? was it the stress of coming back?" he felt guilty as he spoke those words, knowing it was his own fault in the first place that Viktor took such a long break from what made him feel the most alive. 

"no... My mother showed up. I know it's silly for me to get so-" 

Yuuri almost stopped entirely upon hearing that, more than aware of the nightmares Viktor had over that woman. 

"I shouldn't h-" 

"No, its perfectly normal for you to be this upset. I'd be rather concerned if you weren't, actually." 

Yakov stepped out into the corridor, his thickly accented voice doused in anger. 

"what the absolute fuck are you doing vitya? you're on in-" he looked at his watch for a moment. "52 fucking seconds." 

Yuuri opened his mouth to protest, but found no words as Viktor silently rose to his feet and made his way back to the rink, his shoulders jittering as he struggled to look upwards. He took a deep breath and adopted the confident facade he had plastered on for every one of his past events, the severe and sudden switch was enough to make Yuuri feel nauseous at how fast his husband was able to turn off his emotions. 

Viktor took off his skate guards, and stretched out his arms, even though the clock was nearing ever closer to his time. 

He stepped on, facing away from the ice and looking at Yuri. 

"Hey... watch me, will you?" he said with a light smile. 

"Of course. I wouldn't miss it for anything." 

He nodded, and took in a deep breath as he heard the announcer's mildly distorted voice ring throughout the arena. 

"The living legend making his return to skating, the one, the only, VIKTOR NIKIFOROV!" 

He skated to the centre of the rink, trying his hardest to smile and wave at everyone. His heart was in his mouth as he moved to his starting position, the crowd deafening as he tried to calm himself down. Externally, he was his usual, confident, collected self, but on the inside, he was a desperate mess half held together. Truthfully, he didn't know if he was taking his meds, he couldn't remember. He was far too busy training every single day for this moment, making far too many alterations to his base program than what would be safe. He didn't dare about safety - he lived for the sport. He lived to be the best. He couldn't fail. 

The music began to play, and from there, nothing else existed. 

The entire skating community was watching this performance, if they weren't there in person they were watching it on tv, and if they weren't watching it on tv, they were listening to a livestream online. Many of his own friends didn't manage to qualify, purely because he was competing this year and knocked them off the rankings. Viktor knew that, he knew he should feel awful for it, but right now his mind was completely numb. He couldn't even remember his own name, just that he had to do this. He had to do this and win. There was no losing. His position of performing last left him in the perfect position to shoot up the rankings to first. He was more than capable of it, and the modifications he had made to his routine were certain to make him break his own record, if he could execute them properly. 

Yuuri watched him as he promised, entirely enthralled by the performance. He watched Viktor's entry into his first jump, a perfectly executed quad flip which made the crowd roar. His mind began to race at why he would have changed it, he had seen Viktor perform this a dozen times, and he was always playing it safe with his jumps. The quads were only in at the end. He continued to watch, entirely unprepared to see him land a triple combination instead of the single jump he had practiced infront of everyone else. Anxiety began to creep it's way through his body, growing through his throat and leaving him entirely speechless. He was pushing himself too far. He was hiding this from him to win. 

Yuuri's mind began to spiral; why was Viktor hiding this? Why was he going for such a high score? why was he so desperate to beat everyone else? Why had he been so withdrawn during all the practice sessions? why did he always seem so tired all the time? Why did he just switch off his panic like it was nothing? How did he learn to do that? Did Viktor just want to use him as a stepping stone to get right back to the top and keep his crown? 

The crowd was going wild. He could barely hear the music, but that didn't matter. He didn't need the audio cues, this program was muscle memory to him at this point. He was so tired, but that didn't matter. that didn't stop him. He performed another quad jump, landing into a combination spin, and he could hear the chorus of screams washing over the arena. He could practically hear the other skaters hearts thudding in their chests as he was definitely going to shake the rankings and change everything. He could already hear the scalding he'd receive for all the alterations made. He could feel his heartbeat in his ears as his body and mind were screaming at him to stop. He didn't take the warnings. He had to win. He had to be the best. He entered his final Jump, missing the landing and having to steady himself. Anger pierced his chest as he pushed himself to continue. 

The program was drawing to an end, and as Viktor moved from his final spin into the ending pose, the arena grew so loud that he was sure he had forgotten what silence sounded like. His breathing quickened as the announcer spoke again over the speakers, and he took this opportunity to bow to the crowds. He gave his audience a warm smile, waving as multitudinous plushies and bouquets were thrown onto the rink like confetti. He began to skate off the ice, listening to the comments made by the commentators, suddenly feeling all the blood drop to his feet and a painful nausea consuming him. He stretched his arm out to try and grab the wall for support, but missed and offset his balance. 

His vision went black before he even hit the ice.


	2. Chapter 2

The impact of his body against the ice was deafening. Viktor was as pale as the rink itself. He had fallen on his side, and was entirely unconscious. His arm had landed in an awkward position underneath him, and his sullen face seemed to already be bruising. There was no visible rise and fall of his chest, however slight to assure anyone that he was okay. The entire arena fell silent. Once a few seconds had passed, and he made no movement whatsoever, the panic truly started to creep up on them all.

When visible blood began to pool behind his head, everything seemed to freeze. Time had stopped. The medics were there in an instant, the announcers were trying to calm down the crowd and assure everyone that he would be alright.

Fear washed over Yuuri as he was rooted to the spot, unable to move. How could he let this happen? how could he let him do this? how could he be so blind? How did he not see that he was doing this to himself? Each breath now seemed to only weaken his lungs, and his heart was thudding. His eyes were fixated on the limp form of the man that took the place of his entire world. He saw him fall again every time he closed his eyes. His entire body shuddered as he tried to force himself to move and to help in some way, not to be so useless. He watched as Yakov kept talking to the four medics, yelling at them to answer the numerous questions he had, then looking backwards at Yuuri with a surprisingly sympathetic expression.

"Listen-" Yakov could only begin before Viktor made a small noise, and Yuuri's body moved towards him before he could even process what was going on. Viktor was drifting in an out of consciousness, his face contorted in pain and confusion.

"Viktor?!?" his voice was breaking as tears began to sting his eyes. He was stopped by one of the medics, who gave him a small smile as she began to talk him through what would happen. "Mr Katsuki," her slightly accented voice was strangely calming, "We will have to take Mr Nikiforov to the hospital, just to be on the safe side. The ambulance is already here. The fact he is now slightly responsive is a very encouraging sign. He is in safe hands, alright?"

"What hospital?" he asked shakily, a desperate tremor in his voice as he folded his arms to make it less obvious that he was shaking.

"The nearest one, they will inform you once he is admitted. If you could please-" One of the other medics, a big, well-built man with long hair interjected as he helped the paramedics lift Viktor onto the gurney. Yakov pulled Yuuri out of the way and watched as they took him outside into the ambulance, his heart sinking as he heard what sounded like a pained cry.

"I have to go with him... I have to... I... It's my fault... I... oh my god...I...no no no... what if he.... what if-" Yuuri sobbed, covering his mouth with one hand as he noticed the cameras taping the event were suddenly focused on him. He was suddenly incredibly aware of himself, and that only made things so much worse. He turned around, feeling his heartrate double with every passing second. He frantically looked around the area before stumbling into the corridor and desperately attempting to find a trash can before his stomach contents came up again.

He managed to make it in time, wiping his mouth afterwards on the corner of his jacket. He jumped as he saw Yakov step out into the corridor.

"Judges just told me Vitya's score. C'mon, let's get in the car. he needs you. Change your shoes then we’ll go." his voice was unusually quiet and calm, which Yuuri didn't know how to take in his heavily agitated state. For the longest time, Yakov had been very homophobic, as were most of the older Russian people, but after he had seen just how happy the two made each other, (and almost his entire team had come out to him), he turned into a huge ally. He even cried a little at their wedding. The two walked out of the arena, unpleasantly met with an oncoming crowd and a biting chill in the air. “keep moving.” They managed to make it into the car before they had to speak to anyone, which was a blessing. Certain people would take any single word they said and managed to twist an entire news story about it. It had happened too much in the past. The press surrounding their sport was toxic and ninety-five percent false.

Yakov's car was simultaneously old and modern, the interior smelled of a sickly air freshener coupled with the undertone of years of cigarette smoke. It wasn't messy, but it still felt like it was. A small keychain hung from the rear-view mirror, and as the car started up it spun enough for Yuuri to make out that it was a very old photo of his team, all significantly younger and had way more hope in their faces. Viktor had long hair, and still had the most contagious smile, although, after today, Yuuri wasn’t sure if any of his smiles had ever been genuine. The world around them raced past in a grey and confusing blur as the older man began to follow the directions he had put in his phone as they were leaving, going a speed that was ever-so-slightly illegal. Yuuri's phone started to buzz repeatedly in his hand, and he instinctively turned it off without even looking. He couldn't even think of dealing with anything else right now. The idea of socialisation threatened to make him throw up again.

The car ride was cold, tense, and seemed to last for days. The two were in silence for the majority of the ride, save for just as they pulled up into the parking lot of the hospital's emergency department.

"He broke the record." Yakov almost coughed the words as he opened his car door, “Not that it exactly matters. I have to ban him from skating. He’s going to just hurt himself even more if I let him continue.”

“you can’t do that to him-”

“or what? Watch this happen again and again until it kills him? He’s not safe, doing this. He was always taught to do the unexpected, to knock all the competition out of the water, and now… he’s doing it at the expense of his own health. It’s not fair to let him do this.”

“Are you sure it wasn’t just because his mother showed up to the event? T-that might have made him change his p…program and-” Yuuri stammered as he got out of the car, swallowing nervously when he saw Yakov’s expression boil into a state of contained rage.

“What are you talking about? What do you mean his mother? Are you certain it was her?”

“Y-yes… that’s why he was starting to panic before he went on… he saw her in the crowd.”

Yuuri flinched a little as the older man spat a string of what he could only assume to be vile insults in Russian. He covered his mouth and took a sharp inhale as a thousand memories ran through his head. “let’s go.” He began walking, expecting Yuuri to follow him. The path to the department was lined with overgrown plants and old, faded murals that had been put there in an attempt to cheer up the place that many people would have to say their goodbyes. The pair entered the reception area in complete silence. It was busy, full of nervous chatter, all culminating in a toneless buzz that was far too loud. The world was too loud for what had just happened. The spacious waiting area seemed as if it were about to close in on them, each slight noise, each small movement was enough to drive them both insane. After the two had enquired at the front desk and received no information that they didn’t already know, the pair moved to chairs in the furthest corner of the room, both of them stuck in a stunned silence. The world kept moving, but it felt like nothing was changing at all. It felt like he was still stuck in that painful moment, still stuck watching it happen, still shackled and rendered immobile by his own anxiety. Almost 2 entire hours had passed before they knew anything, and the boredom mixed with desperate anticipation called for a distraction. Within the first few seconds of his phone being on, he had numerous notifications lighting it up, each alert sound interrupting the last. He didn’t know where to start on checking them, but then, a call came through that was impossible not to answer. Yuuri’s mother was calling for the fifth time. He suddenly felt guilty for being happy to hear from his mother, given the weight of the situation. He answered the phone, waiting for his mother to begin speaking before he had to.

“Sweetheart? You weren’t answering… we saw it all on TV… are you okay?”

“Hi… mama…I…” He took a deep inhale, crackling his knuckles absentmindedly against the uncomfortable plastic chair, “I’m… I’m just scared… you know? I… I don’t want anything to happen to him… this could have all been avoided if I had just… realised… that he wasn’t okay.”

“Oh baby, this isn’t your fault at all… don’t think that.”

“Mama… he kept it all from me, he didn’t tell me he was going for that… he didn’t train for it… he shouldn’t have done something so dangerous.”

“Where are you now sweetheart?” Hiroko asked, taking a second to shush the rest of the family that were anxiously questioning what was happening.

“At… at the hospital… we haven’t heard anything yet.”  
“Okay… you’re both safe there, try not to worry so much. They’ll tell you first… when they have any news on him. He will be okay, he’s a strong boy.”

That made Yuuri smile a little, “He’s hardly a ‘boy’, ma.”

“well, he’s my son in law, that gives me license to call him whatever, right?” she smiled a little when she heard her son giggle slightly. “They couldn’t hold a placements ceremony… but it’s great news for you both…I know you probably don’t want to talk about that… sorry.”

“no… no it’s okay…thank you for calling… I really miss you… I-” he couldn’t help himself from sobbing a little when it all finally set in like a knife. He was thousands of miles from his family, one of them was 

“Oh baby… I miss you too. We all do… we miss you both so much… it’s okay… it will all be perfectly fine,” She sighed, her heart breaking at hearing her son sound so anguished.

A Doctor came out of the hallway, stress prominent on her features. Her hair was pulled into a bun, parts of it falling out and making it desperately obvious the extent she had been working. She looked around the room, catching sight of the two men on phone calls, and began to walk towards them, carrying a clipboard.

Yuuri continued to talk to his mother, abruptly switching to English when the doctor approached, saying a hasty goodbye and promising to notify her on his condition at the first opportunity he got.

“Hi, you two are here for Viktor Nikiforov, correct?” She paused for them to nod, and continued, “We have moved him into a room of his own for now. If you would please follow me, I can show you to where he is and expand on what we found.”

The doctor led the two down a corridor that seemed to last forever, taking multiple turns through the aggressively lit, cavernous hospital. The walls changed from a white to a light-blue as they entered the emergency inpatients ward, full of those who had already been treated. The doctor stopped them outside a room and encouraged them to sit down on chairs that were a significant upgrade to the ones in the waiting area.

She sighed, adjusting her glasses as she looked at the summary on her clipboard, “I’ll preface by saying that it will not be a good idea to have other people in the room when he wakes up. He has sustained impact trauma to his head, and we cannot be sure if it has caused any brain damage until he wakes up. If his mental state is compromised in any way by overstimulation of the senses, then it will be a lot harder to assess what damage has occurred. Once he’s had a neurological exam, then we can think about letting you both in to see him. I’m sorry, I know that isn’t what you wanted to hear. We have stitched the wounds he came in with, and he has also fractured his left wrist, so we have set that in a cast to immobilize it. We also took a blood sample to test and found that there was not even a trace of his prescribed lithium, if he has been avoiding medication then it’s safe to assume that a manic episode caused him to over-train and make the dangerous changes that exhausted him. We have also put him on a glucose drip, as his blood sugar levels were frighteningly low. Had he been eating normally before this? Sleeping okay?”

Yakov sighed as he saw Yuuri begin to panic further. Of course Viktor hadn’t told him.

“Lithium…? Manic episode…?” He questioned, remembering his own experiences with the worst of his own mental health, and all the times he hadn’t even thought about hiding it from Viktor. He couldn’t help but feel incredibly hurt at the reticence. “You mean… he’s bipolar?”

The doctor swallowed audibly, sifting through Viktor’s notes to find the date of diagnosis. “He was diagnosed seven months ago, you definitely should have been informed, I can’t fathom how that managed to go under the radar for so long. Yes, he is, it’s unfortunately genetic. I am ever so sorry for that lack of communication. I will go consult with our psych department, see if we can sort out a doctor to see him when he wakes up. It shouldn’t be too long now. He will be happy to see you,” she looked down at Yuuri’s ring before she said a brief goodbye and disappeared down the corridor.

Yuuri’s eyes were fixated on the floor in front of him, the line designs blurring in and out of one another.

“Did you know?” he asked, still not looking up.

The older man sighed, unsure of what to say, remembering the day that Viktor first started acting strangely. “Yes, I did know.”

“What the fuck…” Yuuri said monotonously, his emotions were no longer able to be expressed given all the crying and panicking he had done today, before and after the incident. He found himself looking up slightly as he heard the tell-tale sound of someone wearing high heels coming down the corridor. Each pattering sound only added to his overwhelmed state, such a normal sound becoming the most infuriating one he had ever heard.

The woman that approached was on the phone, speaking in what Yuuri recognised to be Russian, and was rounding off her conversation. Her long silvering hair was contrasting against her outfit, and she looked very elusive. Familiar, yet very unfamiliar at the same time. Now that he though about it, she looked a lot like Viktor… oh no.

His fears were confirmed when Yakov practically shot out of his chair and began arguing with the woman in quickfire Russian, each word laced with venom.

"Galina? what the fuck do you think you are doing here?" He barked, glaring at the woman.

"didn't you hear? my son injured himself and I am here for him. Now, tell me what the doctor has said."

"You're the last person he wants to see. Don't pretend to care about him. get out of here you nasty bitch."

"Excuse me? Yakov- How dare you that is my son-"

"No. He's about as much your son as the sky is pink. You said it yourself. The number of times he ran away to me- ran away from your supposed 'care'. The amount of times I have seen this boy broken over what you did to him and drilled into him, you don't deserve to be anywhere near him."

"He's still my boy, Yakov. I love him and i-"

"Love? really? you love him? is love making your son show up to practice covered in bruises every day for years? Is love starving your child as punishments? -"

"Don't you dare try and talk about my parenting-"

"You have the audacity to call it parenting? Galina- You were killing him!"

"How dare you. I was building him up to the best he can be. I did everything for him. He is the world number one in his sport, I did that. It was all to get him here. I did it all for him to be the greatest."

"You're fucking delusional. I can't fucking believe you. "

“Delusional? Really? That’s rich. You can’t stop me from seeing him.”

“The amount of times I called child protective services on you and that bullshit you call a family, you should be lucky they never took him away as a child”

“They never took him away because he was safe in my care. How dare you for a second even suggest that I abused him.” She spat, looking between Yakov and the door of the room they were all gathered outside. “You know what it takes to win.”

“That’s not what that was, don’t compare it to that. You know why he’s here now? Huh? He worked himself half to death because of what you made him think. Because of decades of all your bullshit ‘victory or death’, ‘you win this, or you don’t come home’, ‘the best is never good enough’, he’s broken. He wanted to quit so many times because of you. Skating became a chore to please you- because he’s terrified of you. The second he wakes up. I’m getting him to sign a restraining order. You will agree to it.”

She was stunned into silence for a few seconds, before coming back with a raised voice “No the fuck I won’t. Don’t think you know my son. He loved skating, and all I did was push him to the height that he reached. It’s thanks to me that he became the world champion and made something of himself. Don’t you try to gaslight me into believing your narrative. I know what happened, it’s not my fault my son must have lied to you.”

“Oh, I know liars, and Viktor is not one of them. In all the D-” Yakov got cut off by Galina abruptly changing the subject, and staring at Yuuri, “Who the fuck is this?” her heavily accented English was deeper than Yuuri had expected, and it made him very uneasy. He suddenly felt very unsafe.

“That’s his husband.” Yakov reluctantly explained, entirely unprepared for what would happen next.

“His WHAT?!”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> °•°•°Huge homophobia TW for use of slurs and derogatory language. °•°•°•

Yuuri jumped backwards, his nerves spiking with electric fear when Galina wouldn't give up on her verbal assault. 

"YOU CALL ME THE ABUSER BUT YOU LET MY SON MARRY A FUCKING MAN?!? WHERE THE FUCK DID THIS SIN EVEN TAKE PLACE?" she spat, making gestures with her hands so fierce that Yuuri kept thinking he was seconds away from being hit. "HOW?!" 

"Don't make a scene." Yakov stood between the two, making Galina halt for a second, panting and red faced in her rage. "In the country they live in, where it's legal." he explained, forcing her to take a few steps backwards and diffuse the situation. "Not that you will ever be informed where that is." 

"How could you let this happen?" She switched to Russian again as she lowered her voice, not wanting Yuuri to understand a word she was saying, staring knives at him the entire time as she spoke. "How could you let this stupid fucking faggot corrupt my son? It was just a phase as a teenager, I fixed him... how could you let him do this?" her desperate, pleading tone saying such vulgar words made him feel nauseous. 

"Don't you dare say that. That man did nothing but give your son the love and appreciation he fucking deserved, for the first time in his life. Look, I didn't understand it either, I thought it was evil and sinful myself; but then I learned that there is nothing to hate. it is love." 

"I trusted you. I fucking trusted you. This is what you give me? turned my son into a fairy and made him have an accident? Are you kidding me? You're meant to be his coach...his father will flip his shit when he hears this it might even give him a heart attack, he deserves to know what a filthy creature his son has be-" 

"You are not telling Aleksandr anything of the marriage."

"Of course I am. In fact, I'm going to call him right now." Galina dug in her deep coat pocket and pulled her phone out, only for it to be smacked away, audibly cracking upon impact and for her to scream. "If you want to fucking fight me old man then so be it, you know I'll knock your fucking balls out your throat you PIECE OF-" 

This attracted the attention of the hospital staff, who came and tried to figure out what was going on. 

"This arguing cannot continue. You must be respectful." An older doctor had came past in scrubs, a surgical mask resting on his chin. His breathing was heavier than theirs, and his hands were trembling, evident of a multiple hour long surgery and the fact that he was not about to take this. He turned to address the two older people, resting his elbow on a storage unit. "Yuuri Katsuki is listed as his next of kin. He can stay. The two of you go. Now. take this outside." 

"I'm his mother-" Galina attempted to interject, but was cut off by the doctor's harsh exasperated tone. 

"That factors into nothing. He's not a child that needs a parent to stay with him, he's almost thirty. His next of kin stays." 

"You can't do that-" 

"You're being loud, foul, rude, disorderly and disturbing the peace, in a ward full of patients recovering from head trauma. it would be best for you to leave, even if just to go outside and calm down. Go now or I call security." The doctor stood still as he watched Galina and Yakov reluctantly leave back the way they had first came, continuing their conversation in far more of a hushed and reserved manner. 

Once the doctor was sure they were gone and watched them disappear out of sight, he extended a hand to Yuuri, with a smile on his face. "Hi, I'm Dr Han, I'm in charge of looking after Viktor. it's nice to meet you. Sorry I didn't get here sooner, I was called in to assist on a heart transplant and someone else had to do his initial intake treatment. " 

"Oh... hello... yeah it's nice to meet you too... thank you... for...handling that." Yuuri bowed his head slightly, unsure of what to say. 

"She's certainly something isn't she." he sighed before walking to the door of Viktor's room and taking a quick look inside through the small window space. 

"did you... know what she said?" 

"Yes, and this is no place for that kind of behaviour." Dr Han took the mask off of his face and stuffed it in his pocket, wiping his face down with his gloved hand before continuing. "Did my colleague inform you of what we know so far?" He watched as Yuuri gave a shy nod, and in turn nodded himself. "That's good. He took quite the knock, but given his athleticism and no preexisting physical conditions, he will recover from this very quickly. This was most likely a result of exhaustion and over-exertion. Once he wakes up, we will keep him in the hospital for a few days, 3 at most, just to keep an eye on him make sure that he's in the best possible condition to go back. We can't be quite sure of any brain damage, as it's hard and unreliable to show up convincingly on scans, and given the suspected manic episode, we have no predictions on how that will manifest itself, so that's why the precaution is in place for visitation, I really am sorry for that. He will have to rest that wrist for about 6 weeks once he's out, and there is most likely no severe neurological damage, He will be okay." 

He took in the fact that Yuuri was visibly incredibly overwhelmed and withdrawn, "I know you're only in town for the competition... have you got somewhere calm to go back to? Or someone to spend time with if you don't want to be alone? It can't be making you feel any good staying here." he asked, watching as Yuuri started bouncing his leg anxiously. "Obviously if you want to stay here that's absolutely fine," 

"No... uh... I think I need some air..." He said shakily, jolting as he realised something. "Do you have my number...? to tell me if anything happens while I'm out?" 

"That I do, it's listed here in Viktor's notes, you're his emergency contact. I'll call you the second anything changes. I have no more scheduled procedures for the rest of the day so I should have plenty of time to watch over him." Dr Han smiled as Yuuri silently thanked him, and left out the fire exit. 

He exhaled, watching the cloud cascade into the air above him as the cold air began to sting at his cheeks. His eyes stung from all the tears he had shed, and chest felt tight and on top of all of that, he felt like he hadn't slept in years. The trees around the hospital had long since shed their leaves and looked somewhat like jagged hands reaching towards the sky. He began to walk, each footstep seeming such a laborious task just to keep upright. He let out a loud yawn, checking his phone for a second, just as an unfamiliar number flashed across the screen. 

Already? he turned around back in the direction of the hospital as he answered, "Hello?" 

"Hey." Came an all-too familiar voice of a certain teenager. "You okay?" 

"Oh... Hello." 

" 'Oh Hello?' Jeez. that's all I get?" came the unmistakable voice of Yuri Plisetsky, clear as day. "I'm gonna come see you. where are you?" 

"You don't have to-" 

"Yes I do. Now, where?" 

"I guess... I'm going to go back to the hotel." Yuuri sighed, entirely undecided on how to feel at the proposal of hanging out with the single scariest child he had ever came across. 

"I'll meet you there." 

"Wait, You're still in town?" 

"Duh, why wouldn't I be?" 

"You..." 

"I fucked it up, I don't care. There's always next time for me to fucking beat your old ass." Came his rushed and rather embarrassed explanation. "The city is awesome, anyway. Might move here when I get the money" 

"And are an adult-" 

"Be quiet." 

The two stayed in silence for far longer than what was comfortable, before the younger Yuri broke it with a small and nervous voice. 

"He okay?" 

"Hopefully. I dont know anything for sure." 

"Okay...fuck..." Yuri seemed uncharacteristically worried, "I won't be long." 

"Thank you..." Yuuri sighed as he began walking in the direction of the hotel the two were staying in. The change of scenery was appreciated, as he had opted to take the route over the river on his way back. The stones that lined the path on the bridge were worn with years of use, and had become slightly slippery in the colder temperature. 

"Don't mention it, honestly... It's not like-" He stopped for a second, "Hold on, i think i can see you. Yeah, it's you. you see me?" 

Yuuri looked up, seeing a figure waving on the other side of the bridge, dressed in a black hoodie with a red flannel shirt over it, the same long blond hair poking out the bottom of the hood. Once the two closed the distance further, Yuri looked noticeably different. His eyes were red, and his expression was indeterminable. He looked far older than when Yuuri had seen him last, and the past sparkle of youth behind his green eyes was visibly beginning to dull. He had obviously been crying. He wouldn't bring it up though, he didn't quite like the idea of getting his head bitten off yet again by another angry Russian. He looked over at him, his head tilting upwards as he went on his tiptoe for a brief moment.  
"Aw shit. I'm still not your height." the teenager let out a small laugh as he put his phone in his backpack. 

"Won't take long for you to overtake me. It's nice to see you." Yuuri sighed, doing up his jacket as the extent of the cold started to set in. 

"Nice to see you too, I guess. Come on, let's get out of here and find somewhere to sit. it's fucking colder than a witch's tits out here. I'll freeze if I keep standing here." His usual tone had returned as he started walking back the way he had came. "You coming or what?" 

Yuuri reluctantly caught up, and the two walked through the city as it began to get dark. The city was young, bubbly and full of life, and it was evident everywhere you looked. The town was lined with planters full of bright flowers, and had wonderful art and statues all over. The two walked past a wide colourful mural, turning the corner to find it was painted on the side of a small independent cafe. The teenager pulled his hood down and walked inside, almost hitting his head on a low-hanging plant pot. The tiny cafe was like an acorn amongst the trees, rather unassuming and seemingly insignificant, but once you took the second to look, it was really rather special. It was lit by strings of lights, and each table had a small arrangements of plants in strangely painted metal pots. The walls were covered in artwork and plants, giving the place a comforting feel. 

Once the two had sat down at a table and ordered their drinks, it suddenly became incredibly awkward. 

"How have you been...you seem..." 

"I seem what?" he snapped. 

"it's nothing, sorry..." 

"No, I..." Yuri sighed as he drummed his fingers awkwardly on the table, the vibrations making the cactus in its pot rattle. "I... uh... got the news that my grandpa died... right before I went on the other day, it threw me off... that's why I landed nothing and forgot half my program." 

"Oh... Yuri I'm so sorry." The older of the two adjusted his glasses as an excuse not to make eye contact. That explained it. Yuri's grandfather had raised him and always been the sole person he depended on. No wonder he had been crying. "I know you were really close." 

"He was almost ninety, I should have prepared myself for the possibility of him leaving. I'm just glad he didn't forget who I was before he passed. Don't apologise, it's not your fault." 

"It's what you say though, isn't it? when someone you care about is going through a hard time." 

Yuri audibly snorted at that, pulling a hairtie off his wrist as he looked at his feet while he gathered his hair into a bun. "You saying you care about me?" 

"Why wouldn't I?" 

That made the boy slightly flustered, and he covered it up with his usual aggressive exterior before changing the subject as their drinks were brought over. Two coffees were brought over on an intricately carved wooden tray, and were served in delicately painted floral cups. 

Yuri hastily drank his, forgetting that it would be hot and the sheer regret was illustrated on his features as he undoubtedly burnt his mouth. "good coffee." he hissed once he swallowed it, too proud to admit he made a mistake. 

"You good there?" 

"Fine." Yuri insisted, sighing as he looked out across the Cafe. "I know you don't want to talk about it but you will tell me. What actually happened? I only saw the cut up footage of him bleeding on the rink and the news only said 'not much is known at this time' which is bullshit." 

"The doctors say it was exhaustion." Yuuri hovered on the idea of mentioning the contributions of Viktor's mental state, unsure if it would be wise to disclose such a personal detail. 

"What...? that makes no sense." Yuri's puzzled expression made him look especially juvenile. 

"and mrs 'mother of the year' made a grand appearance." 

"You're fucking joking-" Yuri set his cup down a little too hard, splashing the hot liquid over his hand and found it a little too hard to keep calm this time. "son of a BITCH-" he yelled a bit too loudly and got multiple stares and whispers in return. "You're kidding me... fuck... of course that had something to do with him going so hard today..."  
"You know what she's like then?" 

"I saw it firsthand as a kid. I remember this one day, I must have been about nine, Vik had come to watch the younger kids having a group coaching session, I saw him and tried a jump to impress him, and then the next thing I saw was that old hag yanking his arm and yelling at him, pushing him out of the rink, calling him a worthless piece of shit. That was the extent of what I personally witnessed, but all of the skaters that came to our rink knew varying details of what went on at his house. Then, one day he stopped turning up altogether. Apparently she was nuts or something like that... still doesn't excuse the crazy shit I heard from the others." The teen looked down, then around the cafe in an attempt to mask his reluctance to speak on it further. 

"Shit... yeah..." Yuuri took a hurried sip of coffee to avoid having to talk as he thought over how awful that must have been. If all of the others knew what had gone on in varying degrees, he could only imagine the states he had turned up to training sessions in. He had suddenly became incredibly thankful for his family, who had always loved and accepted him without question, who had been so loving and welcoming to Viktor. He thought over the idea of taking him back to hasetsu as a kind of distraction from everything that had happened, becoming somewhat lost in thought as he remembered the last time they were there over the winter, just after their honeymoon. He remembered them going on a walk with the dog along the beach, holding each other's hands...He looked so wonderful in the moonlight... 

"Yo, earth to katsudon" The teenager drawled as he waved his hand infront of Yuuri's face. "Your phone. Rang four times." 

"Oh wait what?" he was dragged back to reality by the sound of his phone vibrating against the table, making the plant pot give an awful metallic rattle. 

"Private number...Shouldn't you get that?"


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The two Yuris bond a little.

"Hello?" 

"Hi there, it's Dr Han, am I speaking to Yuuri Katsuki?" 

"ah yes hello..." 

"Hi, I just thought I'd let you know that he's starting to wake up." 

"Oh my god really...?!" Yuuri couldn't contain his emotion, and it was evident on his face. 

"Yeah, he's not fully awake just yet, but he did open his eyes and adjust himself- I think he just needs a bit of extra rest, unsurprising, really. You're free to come to the hospital, although we haven't conducted his neurological assessment yet so it will unfortunately be at least another hour, maybe two before you can see him. It's a very good sign." 

Yuuri couldn't help the small tears that formed in his eyes. 

"Thank you... Thank you so much..." 

"He's going to be fine. Try not to worry. I look forward to seeing you soon." Dr Han concluded the phone call, leaving off with a small 'goodbye'. 

Yuuri put his phone down, an immovable relieved smile on his face. 

"So? what was it?" The teenager asked, stirring his coffee as he awaited an answer, rather irritated when it wasn't instant. "Spit it out!" 

"I..Uh... Viktor is okay... he apparently woke up briefly and is just resting now... I can go see him in an hour..." Yuuri spoke the words with such uncertainty, like he couldn't quite believe it was happening. 

"Holy shit... That's great." Yuri couldn't help but smile himself, pulling his phone out for a moment to check the time. "Okay, so... I think we should go back to you guys's hotel room, grab him some shit he might want, kill a bit of time while we wait."  
"Yeah, that's what I was thinking." Yuuri smiled at the boy as he took in the moment. "You want to come with me to the hospital?" 

"Well... kind of but obviously I don't mind... it's not like I'm that bothered... it's just..." 

"I know. You see him as a kind of big brother don't you?" 

Yuri suddenly looked quite embarrassed and hid in his hands for a moment before groaning. " ugh don't say it like that, it's weird." He finished his drink and dug around in his black backpack that was heavily decorated with pins and patches to find his wallet as he thought of what he wanted to say next. "I uhh... Might leave it. He needs to see you and it wouldn't make sense for me to be there. Just text me when you're with him, let me know he's good." He pulled out more than enough money to cover the bill, not counting as he left it on the table as he stood up. "I will go with you to the hotel and grab the stuff, however." 

"Alright, thank you." Yuuri bowed his head slightly as he stood up, finishing the rest of his drink in one as the two walked out of the cafe and in the direction of the rather expensive hotel all the skaters were staying at. 

The streets were starting to sprinkle with snow, settling on Yuuri's glasses and stinging at his cheeks. The streetlights were connected with strings of colourful bulbs, interlinked like a luminous spider web. This city was truly beautiful at night, a strange kind of simplistic feeling. The river had a reflection of the moon in it's surface, and it reminded Yuuri so much of when they danced at their wedding. 

"I still remember you guys getting married." Yuri somehow read his mind as he walked a good few paces ahead as he usually did, having changed into his team russia training jacket that he had stuffed in his bag. "Thanks for inviting me, by the way. it was cute." 

"We couldn't not invite you kiddo." Yuuri half expected a smack in the face for saying that last part, but no such anger came. Instead, he was met with Yuri stopping to watch the river for a moment as he waited for Yuuri to catch up with him. 

"Made me happy to see you two so... I don't know... I guess the word is proud...?" 

Yuuri looked down as he remembered the numerous struggles he had as a teenager with his sexuality, and the fact that he had literally managed to marry the man that was his gay awakening. 

"On the subject..." Yuri continued, looking away from the other man's direction entirely, his accent getting thicker as his words become much more quiet. "I think I'm gay." 

Yuuri couldnt help but smile, and feel humbled that such an antagonistic and closed-off person felt close enough to him to tell him such a personal piece of information. "Me too." He stated in a joking manner, unsure of what to say, thinking back to what Viktor had told him about what he wanted to hear when he first came out. "That's cool. I'm proud of you, you should know that." He watched carefully as the teenager quickly averted his gaze, almost scrubbing at his eyes with his jacket sleeve. "I know you might have been told otherwise, and I know it seems obvious, but remember that there is nothing at all wrong with that, okay? there is nothing wrong with you." His heart sank when he saw the teenager break down in tears. 

"Don't touch me...I... fuck... I don't... fuck..." Yuri couldn't find the words. "I just... I grew up always being told it was one of the worst things you could be... I heard it everywhere. When I started getting older I kept thinking 'why haven't I got a girlfriend yet?' and then I realised... it's because I don't like girls... not in the way I'm supposed to anyway... and I... I just don't know what to do...I've been so scared to tell anyone because I have no idea how they'd react. There was every chance I'd get kicked out or get beaten up like Vi-" He stopped himself once he realised he was going off on a tangent, and looked Yuuri in the eyes as he wiped his own. "You and Viktor taught me it was okay. You know? a-and seeing you both get married... a-and how happy you both are it just..." 

Without a second thought, Yuuri pulled the teenager into a hug, incredibly suprised when he didn't push him away. "I know it's not safe for you to be out... and I'm not going to share that information with anyone else, you know that, right?" He spoke softly, continuing when he saw a small nod. "And if anyone tries anything, or if anything happens to you, you come stay with me and Viktor. You will always be safe with us. Okay?" 

"I... I don't know what to say..." 

"You don't have to say anything at all. As long as you remember that it's perfectly fine to be who you are." Yuuri smiled as he began to walk again, watching the snow fall, the hotel slowly coming into view in the distance. "We're almost there, come on, don't want to stay in the cold too long, as lovely as the snow is." 

The building had a very large flowerbed surrounding a fountain right at the front, and the water had frozen in small drops that looked almost magical. The building itself was almost fifty storeys high, and was made of metal that shined even in the minimal light supplied by the porch area that had a small congregation of people smoking. There were a pair of men in uniform by the door which most definitely were not there when they had left for the competition this morning. 

As the two approached the doors, they became increasingly more aware of how big the two men were, both of them jumping a little when they were stopped from entry. 

"Room keys?" 

"Huh? Why?" 

"We've had a strange influx of random people coming in and trying to break into specific rooms of the skaters in town... so we are limiting entry to those who are guests." 

"Ah.. yeah..." The two did the ritual pat-down of trying to find an object on your person with an indeterminate location, both of them pulling out the small white plastic cards with engraved numbers on them. 

"845 and 683, that's all good, come in." 

The Doorman opened the doors for the two, watching as they awkwardly hurried inside. 

"God that was weird..." Yuri said with a shudder as the two walked into the grand lobby, unable to draw his eyes away from the huge chandelier that sparkled against the marble walls. 

"Yeah... you don't think anyone went in our rooms.. do you-" Yuuri was cut off by a familiar call of his name. 

Phichit Chulanont was dressed in the oversized hoodie that Yuuri had a matching copy of, and was heading in his direction, full of visible concern. 

"Oh my god are you okay?" He almost whimpered as he pulled Yuuri into a hug and began to babble. "We were all so scared and didnt know what to do and then I thought of how you must feel and then-" 

"I'm fine, honestly. I'm off to the hospital now to see him." 

"Oh that's amazing... okay... is he gonna be okay?" 

"Yeah, Vitya will be alright... I'm just going to bring him some stuff." 

"Ah,be careful, some weirdo fangirls broke into my room and stole half my shit. But Aw, You're such a cute husband to him, bro. Well, I won't keep you any longer, I just wanted to make sure you're all good. Don't forget to take your meds, alright?" Phichit waved to the two as he started to walk in the other direction to what they could only assume was the bar. 

The two stepped into the large elevator rather awkwardly, not speaking a word between them until the elevator stopped at the 13th floor. They walked into the hallway, following the signs to room 845, looking at the plants that were positioned in every corner to give it some kind of life. 

Yuuri fiddled with the key card as they approached the room. He only spoke once they were inside, and thankfully nothing was visibly missing. Their room had been tidied while they were out, and that made everything a lot easier to find. 

"Woah... this is a huge fuckin room..." Yuri almost whispered as he looked around. He wasn't wrong. Their room was spacious and had a bunch of amenities they weren't used to, and it had a perfect view overlooking the city square. The bed was noticeably huge, and had a few plushies the pair had picked up on their trip laid on it. The teenager took a quick look to see what their bathroom was like, walking back out with a sigh "I gotta ask for an upgrade-" He stopped when he saw that Yuuri was suddenly completely still. "Oi, what's wrong?" 

"I uh..." He picked up a folded piece of paper, handing it to Yuri with a shaking hand. "I can't read Russian yet... I don't know what this says..." 

He took it nervously, unfolding it to see a note written on the hotel stationery, in block capitals, breathing in shakily when he read it. "You don't want to know-" 

"I do... please just tell me... I'd feel so much worse if it's something bad and something happened-" 

Yuri cleared his throat, pulling down his hood with a sigh. "Katsuki, You must leave my son now or there will be dire consequences, G.Nikiforov." He swallowed nervously, seeing that Yuuri was visibly starting to panic, his arms trembling as his eyes widened. "Hey, It doesn't matter. Look at me, old man." He sat down on their bed, sighing as he looked awkwardly between him and the window. "She can't do shit, realistically. What you need to do now is forget that this happened, ask the front desk for another room, and go see your fucking husband."  
"I... How did she know we were staying here? In... in this room... I don't understand how she could have-" 

"Who else knew this was your room?" 

"I didn't tell anyone our room number... I genuinely have no idea how she got in here. This is so-" 

"Fucked up." Yuri finished the sentence for him, finding himself a little too freaked out for his own comfort. "Come on, it will be alright. Just grab one of those bags and put some of his stuff in it, Okay? can you manage that?" 

Yuuri nodded as he pushed the fear deep down and refused to acknowledge it. 'there's nothing she can do,she can't hurt us.' he repeated to himself internally as he gathered items to bring. He grabbed his own backpack that he had brought, and filled it with some of Viktor's clothes, his phone charger, his toothbrush, going into almost mother-hen mode as he brought every possible thing he might need. He knew how scary and unfamiliar hospital stays could be, especially in another country. He felt a stab of guilt as he looked through Viktor's belongings, hoping to find the medication he was apparently meant to be taking, sighing when he couldn't find anything. 

"You ready?" Yuri asked with a loud yawn, and looked suddenly very much his age. The time difference from russia was ridiculous, and it was no wonder the kid was tired. 

"Yeah... are you alright?" 

"Totally fine. Coffee should kick in soon. You wanna go now?" 

"Yeah. Go back to your room, and chill. please." 

"Don't need to tell me twice. Been nice seeing you again." Yuri yawned again, picking up his room key and walking to the door. "I'll talk with the front desk about your room when you're out, okay?" 

They had a small awkward parting, Yuri hurriedly going down the stairs so they wouldnt have to share an elevator as Yuuri began making his way to the hospital again. 

The walk by himself was oddly calming, and it offered him a chance to completely arrange his thoughts. He had to get out his phone a few times to check he was going the right direction, the small clink and shuffle of the objects becoming a comforting addition to his footsteps. He saw the hospital sign, adrenaline bubbling his his chest and forming a catch in his throat as he tried to steady himself after the events of what happened earlier that day. The entrance came into view once more, and it had a few people gathered under the lights that stuck out of the building's exterior. 

Yuuri pushed the door, his stomach turning as his arm was grabbed fiercely, forcing him to look at who it was, fear throwing him forward into the hospital when he saw that it was Galina. Her face was twisted into rage and she stank of alcohol and cigarettes, her heavily lined eyes staring into his very soul as he wrenched his arm free. 

"Don't you dare speak to him!" She yelled after him as he hurried inside, no doubt she had been barred from entering. 

Yuuri forced himself to breathe as he cracked his knuckles, looking down at his ring and finding a small smile on his face.


	5. Chapter 5

Yuuri made his way back through the network of corridors he had been led down a few hours prior, stopping outside what he remembered to be Viktor's room, looking over at the small gap in the door, only seeing a doctor and a nurse. 

He settled himself on the chair, taking a deep breath in and putting on his headphones as he had done a thousand times previous to this in attempts to calm his anxiety. 

Lost in his thoughts, he thought about what happened, and how many signs of not being alright Viktor had exhibited in the weeks prior. Not sleeping much, being overtly energetic and happy, getting up really early and doing things, training much more than usual, getting offended very easily, having so many new ideas to talk about, and Yuuri couldn't be sure he saw him actually finish a meal once. 'how could I be so blind... it's so obvious...' He muttered to himself in Japanese as he remembered the times he himself had been suspected of having the disorder, and he had a lot of knowledge on it for him to not even see that Viktor wasn't well. 

He was brought back to reality by the familiar doctor tapping him on the shoulder. He took his headphones out quickly with a small apology before listening to what the doctor said. 

"He's alright, concussed, but no extreme damage or long lasting effects. His memory of the incident is a little foggy and he is understandably tired and nauseous, and he will have headaches and possible dizzy spells to watch out for, I will go over more in a little while but he was asking for you; begging, almost. You can go see him-" Dr Han quickly swerved out of the way as Yuuri almost leapt the entire distance to the door, looking through the window, watching as he saw Viktor sat upright in bed, and how his eyes lit up with a smile when he recognised Yuuri stood there. 

Yuuri opened the door, rushing over to Viktor without a second thought and pulling him into a long, loving hug, careful not to knock the needle in his hand or the one in the cast. 

"Hi, sweetheart, it's great to see you," Viktor's voice was incredibly tired, but also relieved. He Buried his face in Yuuri's shoulder, incredibly thankful to have his husband back with him. The warmth and familiarity were an indescribable comfort. The room was strange, and smelled sickening clinical. The lights had been dimmed to account for the light sensitive headaches he would undoubtedly have for a while. The room was strangely large, and disproportionately filled, like it had room for much more medical equipment than was required right now. He gripped on to Yuuri tighter, allowing himself to finally calm down in his presence. 

"Oh Vitya..." Yuuri felt like he was about to cry again, thankful beyond words that he was alright. He hesitantly pulled away from the hug, and looked at Viktor, sighing when he took in what he looked like. His head was bandaged, his silvery-blond hair poking out from the top of the bandage. His eyes were glossed over with medication, and his skin looked far more pale than usual, he looked gray. He was visibly exhausted, and that was evident in every action he made. His expression was one of fatigue and discomfort, mixed with a strange serenity. He looked surprisingly sickly in the medical gown given to him, and even though he looked like someone far smaller trying to grow into his body, he was still the same Viktor. "How are you feeling?" 

Viktor did not know how to answer that in a way that made sense. He felt like his head was being shaken and hit at a thousand times over, yet also that the very obvious stitches were slowly pinching the entirety of his head. His stomach felt like it was in a washing machine and the nausea was unending. He felt so tired, unsteady and was in so much discomfort and pain. It had taken him forever to even absorb the fact he broke his wrist. "Okay... I think... I don't quite remember what happened, it was scary waking up in a hospital when the last thing I remember was starting my program..."Viktor instinctively took Yuuri's hand in his own, a small frown forming on his face. "Are you sure you're warm enough darling?" 

Such a normal expression of affection suddenly made Yuuri incredibly uneasy, and Viktor picked up on it in an instant, even in his heavily medicated state. "Should I not have asked that?" 

"Vitya... I... there you go again, asking how I am before you even process what's wrong with you... You could have died today... and you're worried about me being cold...? I don't get it..." 

"I...I guess I can't help putting you above myself... and I doubt it was that serious..." 

"No... it was... You... You managed to finish but you blacked out and hit your head... You started bleeding... I.... I genuinely thought I might never see you again... Vitya... if you hit the ice any harder there's a chance you could have been paralysed...or...much worse...I..." 

Viktor's eyes widened as he looked away for a moment, holding Yuuri's hand a little tighter before he looked back at him, entirely within the knowledge of nothing he could say would make the situation any better. 

"I'm ever so sorry for worrying you, my love..." He said slowly, thinking over what else to say. 

"I don't understand how it happened... that program shouldn't have exhausted you that much.." Yuuri winced as Viktor's expression instantly soured as he let go of his hand. "I thought we agreed not to keep anything from each other..." he continued, unable to mask the hurt in his voice. 

"I'm fine." 

"Vitya, don't be like that... You know there is nothing wrong with admitting you're not okay, right? and i need to be aware of it so I can support you in the best way possible... just like I told you almost everything about my anxiety... Please... sweetheart..." 

"I know that, and I've told you. I'm fine." 

"Please... don't shut me out... You're not okay... you need to admit that... you wouldn't have landed yourself in a hospital otherwise... I'm your husband... you know I won't judge you... I just want to know what happened." 

"I..." Viktor's voice tremored, and he suddenly winced and looked up at the ceiling, putting his head back to the uncomfortable hospital pillow, hissing a swear when the impact was a little too much for him to bare. "I really don't want to talk about it..." 

Yuuri didn't want to press too much, and made a weak attempt to take his husband's hand again. 

"Is it... because of the diagnosis...?" 

"What?" 

"You know... don't act like you don't." 

"I genuinely don't know what you're referring to." Viktor's sudden defensiveness was definitely a red flag. He was always an awful liar. 

"Vitya... You know exactly what. The doctors told me...You haven't been eating or sleeping right, and every spare second you had you were training. You've been getting up in the middle of the night and doing a thousand things at once... and then there were the times where you seemed so scared and made no sense... Why are you so desperate to deny this? there's nothing wrong with it..." 

Viktor winced, all the words torn from his head as he stumbled on what to say. Where could he even start? Would he start on the fact he had literally been forgetting to eat? or the fact that sleeping regularly had suddenly become impossible? Or the fact that he felt absolutely fine right until he saw Galina and suddenly it all came crumbling down. 

"I... I was scared... I didn't know what to do... because... I hadn't been okay... but I was fine, you know...? A friend made me go to the doctor because I was 'worrying' and 'concerning'.... but then I got the diagnosis and it made me feel sick... because...then if I'm bipolar then I'm like her... and I don't want to be... I don't want to be anything like her... and then that means that I can't....I... I don't want to end up hurting you... I don't want to be the family member that's too sick to know he even needs help... I don't want you to have to take care of me...I me...I know what it's like to have to do that... and I just-" Viktor suddenly spoke rather fast, working himself up. 

"Look at me..." He took Viktor's face in his hands, making his husband look at him. "If I am sure of anything in this world, it is that you won't ever hurt me." 

"You..." 

"And you are nothing like your mother, you need to know that. I met her today and I know that she is nothing like the kind and wonderful human being you are. Don't act like this diagnosis is a death sentence... or that it's all that you are. all it means is that you just need a little extra help... that's all." 

"Hold on a second...You...met my mother...?" 

"Unfortunately," Yuuri gave a small sigh, "you were right, she's a bitch." 

Viktor couldn't help but laugh a little. "Are... You okay?" 

"I'm absolutely fine sweetheart, don't worry about me." Yuuri didn't want to mention the threatening note nor Galina's behaviour, he didn't want to cause any unnecessary distress. 

Viktor sighed, looking defeated as he shifted slightly in his bed to face Yuuri. "You deserve to know the truth..." 

"It's fine if you don't want to talk about it... honestly Vitya I-" 

"No... I'd want to know everything if it was you... 'in sickness and health' and all that..." Viktor took Yuuri's hands in his own as he began explaining, running his thumb over his ring as he found it suddenly very hard to make eye contact. "I... It's really hard to explain what it feels like... almost like I'm in the backseat of a car but the driver jumped out and I'm just stuck along for the ride... a part of me knows it's bad, but I have no control over it...or like... Everything's going so fast, and I have so much energy and determination, almost in a good way... and I knew that I was going back to the ice so I kept training, I had to keep going. I couldn't eat... I couldn't sleep for more than an hour a night...I didn't need to... being the best skater...it was all that mattered. I was running on about... 45 minutes of sleep and nothing in my system.... and making all those changes to what I was going to do... I think that's why it happened." He looked up to see Yuuri's almost frightened expression, and sighed. "And obviously... I was thrown off by Galina showing up. I haven't seen her in almost 7 years. Just seeing her reminded me of everything... and I suddenly reverted to being fifteen again... and I was so scared of disappointing her so I gave it everything I had, even though I couldn't... I just couldn't lose... you know?" He hadn't even realised that he started crying until Yuuri handed him the box of tissues. 

Viktor's gaze drifted to the window ahead of him, looking absently into the corridor; entirely unsure of what to do next. He wasn't used to being vulnerable, or even being cared about. He had never known such unconditional kindness until he had met Yuuri, and he had finally learned what it was like to have a life outside the rink. He could still remember all the times he would be pulled out of school early to practice, all the times he wasn't allowed to do anything until he had landed a jump twenty times in a row. Being raised like that, in that awful environment, it was no surprise that seeing his mother again triggered some desperate switch. 

"So..." Viktor mumbled, in a small attempt to change the subject, "Aside from me, is everything else okay?" 

"They kinda caught the blacking out on camera... everyone keeps asking me if you're okay and I had to mute my phone because it never stopped going off... But yeah, everything's alright. It's all going to be okay." He left out the part of Viktor's win, he didn't want that to negatively feed anything. 

"That's good then..." Viktor's tired smile was just as charming as ever. It was short-lived, however and it suddenly faded with the distant sound of an argument. "Did she say anything to you?" 

"Did who say anything to me?" 

"My Mother..." 

"No... why...?" 

"You're a terrible liar, Yuuri." 

"Just some slurs, and a lot of stuff in Russian that I didn't understand...It doesn't really matter." 

"Люблимй, of course it matters. I'm so sorry, she never should have even known who you were... For both of our sakes... She would never live it down if she found out I had married a man." 

Yuuri suddenly didn't know what to say. He had always been so lucky having a family that he could always rely on, a family that he never once considered would treat him any differently when they knew that he liked men. He knew that Viktor didn't want him to meet his family, a part of him had always wanted to, but after experiencing the monstrous nature of Galina, he didn't even think of that idea again. 

"You were amazing out there today. Made me cry a little I was so proud." Viktor said softly, looking at Yuuri with a smile. "You're such a wonderfully skilled skater. I know that my... a-accident has probably soured the mood of this final... but you must remember that you did brilliantly, and you should be so proud of yourself." 

"Viktor..." 

"I'm serious. You get better each time you perform. it's beautiful to experience, watching you grow and blossom and get progressively more confident... From a coaching perspective and that of a husband... I'm so proud of you...I love you beyond words." 

There was something about hearing that from Viktor, that made him feel a way that nothing else did. Viktor, who had been his entire world for years, being proud of him. Even after they established their relationship, after the proposal, even after the wedding, there was such a huge part of Yuuri that believed that Viktor didn't mean any of it, and was just toying with him. Right now, that thought was simply impossible. 

"I love you too..." Yuuri couldn't shake the smile from his face. 

His phone began to rattle against the table he had left it on, the noise making Viktor wince and as he picked it up to mute it, he had found there were 48 missed calls, from Yuri's number. 

"Hello...?" 

"Don't leave the hospital-" 

"What?"  
"I mean it don't fucking leave the hospital..." There was so much background noise, and the kid sounded like he had just ran a marathon. A sharp yell was audible in the background, as well as distant banging. 

"Why? What's going on?!" 

"I can't-..." he whispered desperately, his breath hitching when he had been noticed. "Oh fuck-"

The connection went dead with a muffled scream.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: ABUSE, HOMOPHOBIA, VIOLENCE, KIDNAPPING, INTERROGATION, FLASHBACKS.
> 
> *я тебя люблю = I love you

Yuri watched intently as multiple people stood by the door of Viktor and Yuuri's hotel room, all dressed in hotel uniforms. He had gone down to the front desk after his nap and told them about what had happened, and didn't think too much of it when he saw the first two staff members go in. Once two turned into six, he grew very suspicious. 

He kept behind the cover of the wall corner, and started to dial for Yuuri. No answer. He called again when he saw them start to throw their belongings out. No answer. When he heard a smash from inside the room, he called again. When he heard the supposed staff laughing and spitting slurs; he called once more. When he saw a woman stumble into the room, and the way they all made way for her, he called them again. 

The group of people switched to speaking Russian, and Yuri was instantly aware of what was happening. They were bad news. 

He heard the line connect and desperately started whispering his warning.  
He broke his stare on the door for a fatal few moments as he spoke, allowing his mouth to be covered as he was restrained by two huge pairs of arms. 

"GET THE FUCK OFF ME!" Yuri screamed as he tried his hardest to kick free of whoever had suddenly grabbed hold of him. 

"That will get you nowhere boy." He looked up to see that the two men who were guarding the front door were the ones restraining him. 

"What... what the fuck is going on?" he breathed, trying his hardest not to show the intense and instinctual fear that was consuming him rapidly. 

He didn't even hear the footsteps behind him before he was knocked out. 

\- 

"What was that?" Viktor asked, unsure what to gather from Yuuri's expression, his heart monitor audibly escalating when Yuuri stood up and started pacing, visibly shaking. 

"I... Yurio... he said... he... told us not to leave the hospital... a-and then it sounded like he got hit and he screamed but... he sounded so scared... I don't know what's going on...I..." 

\- 

When Yuri awoke, he had no idea where he was. He tried to move, the attempt being met with searing pain as he forced himself to open his eyes. 

"What the fuck." He hissed as he looked up to find a woman he had never met before, but instantly knew who she was. 

"Don't use such language. Now. You're going to tell me every single thing you know about that little Japanese faggot that corrupted my son." 

"Fuck off you old bitch. Your breath stinks." His voice wavered slightly as he averted his eyes from her, trying to mask his fear with his usual aggression. "You know how long you get for kidnapping children? I heard its-" 

"Nobody will know about this. Now. You tell me what you know about him." 

"Or what?" 

"You ever hear of the Harding/Kerrigan scandal?" Galina's tone was chilling and laced in venom that stung Yuri to his core. He was suddenly overwhelmed with just how much danger he was actually in. "If you're not going to talk... I hope you don't value your knees too much boy." 

Yuri flinched as she produced a hammer from nowhere, holding it in her hands with sickening intent. 

"Talk." 

"Wh... what do you want to know...?" 

"Where did they meet?" 

"The uh... the gala after the grand prix final... Yuuri was drunk and he started talking to Viktor." He decided to omit the stripping and grinding for his own sake. 

"How did they end up..." Galina scowled and spat on the floor as she finished her question "together?" 

"Viktor went to Japan, and started to coach him. They fell in love I guess." 

"Impossible. You know as well as I do that there is no such thing as married love between two men." 

"I..." Yuri found himself speechless, like he had been hit in the stomach by such a remark. He knew he had to agree, he was trained to agree. But it felt so wrong, now that he knew who he was. 

"What? are you a little fairy boy too?" She looked at him, suddenly seeing the spitting image of fifteen-year-old Viktor, delusional rage taking the reigns of her actions. "ANSWER ME!" 

Yuri felt his heart beat in his ears as she was inches away from his face and yelling at him. "Of course I'm not bitch." He felt bad that he was covering up who he was again, but he really had no choice. For all he knew, his life and his future were on the line. 

"Then why are you so defensive of them?" 

"They're not hurting me." 

Galina sighed, looking at the boy. 

"Why did Vitya run away?" 

"what?" 

"you heard me." 

"How the fuck am I meant to know that?" 

She stayed silent, staring at him with a strange, chilling sadness.  
"How did you find him?" Yuri tried to ask, his heart sinking to his feet when he saw how rapidly her expression changed. 

He didn't prepare himself for the blow to the face, but still somewhat expected it. This woman was unhinged. 

"I'm asking the fucking questions, boy. Be quiet." 

-  
"Yuuri, slow down, say that again-" Viktor tried to get to the end of his bed to try and stand up to comfort him, snagging his IV in the process and hissing out in pain. 

"Vitya... I think somebody took Yurio." 

"What? what do you mean?" 

"I... When we went to the hotel to grab some things for you... I... found a note and it said something..." 

"A note? what do you mean- Yuuri?" 

"He told me that it was a threat... i-in russian and I... she got into our room... and put it there..." 

"What?" His heart monitor began to escalate to a wildly unsafe degree, and drew attention of a doctor that was walking past. The constant beeps only contributed to the state he was compressing himself into. 

"Mr Nikiforov?" The doctor walked in, calling for help when Viktor showed no instant signs of calming down. 

Yuuri was unable to move, the guilt of mentioning that crucial detail, the sheer blinding, animalistic terror on his husband's face was enough to make him throw up. He watched as a psych nurse was called in, watching her attempts to bring Viktor back from whatever he was experiencing. He couldn't help but spiral his thoughts. This was his fault, surely. If he didnt go back to the hospital, Galina wouldn't have to hurt anyone else... how did she even know he knew Yuri? How did she get in their room? How did she get Yuri? Was it even her? 

-  
"There... I answered all your bullshit questions. Let me go-" 

"Remember. You know what happens if you say anything-" 

"Yeah I get it you bitch." 

"What are you being so dramatic for?" she walked closer to him, smiling at him. 

"FUCKING LEAVE ME ALONE ALREADY YOU FUCKING PSYCHOTIC HAG!" He made a break for the door and managed to open it, falling to his knees and crawling out as he steadied himself enough to break out into a run as he made his way to the nearest place he could find that wasn't the hotel. He had no idea where he was, but he knew he just had to keep running. He didn't have his phone, it probably got left in the hotel corridor. 

Galina watched him run away, guilt piercing into her. how could she do this...to another child? She looked around the outbuilding she had taken him to, looking through the open door and out at the snow-strewn world with a sigh. 

"Я тебя люблю," She whispered into the wind, looking longingly at the hospital building that was still visible even at such a distance. "Why won't you see... I love you... I need you back."  
  
-

Viktor was suddenly right there again.  
he could still remember it all in bullet time. 

"How could you do this to me? to us! HOW DARE YOU TELL ME THAT YOU'RE A DEGENERATE FUCKING FAGGOT!" His mother screamed inches away from his face, punching him square in the face, causing Viktor to stumble backward. He started to run for the door, his hands on the frame as he was pulled back by his ponytail, the pain it caused was enough to stop fighting back enough for him to get hit in the face again, splitting his lip and sending blood trailing from the cut. He remembered falling again with a punch to the chest, hitting his head as he fell again. "You need to learn. I'm doing this for your sake. Get up." She hissed, spitting as she did so. "Come on. Practice. Let's go." 

She pushed him forward as he got up, grabbing the skate bag left by the door as she left the house, pushing Viktor into the car and driving him to the rink in complete silence at an illegal speed, stopping abruptly in a parking space. Viktor's heart was in his throat, beating in his ears as tears stung his eyes. "Get out Vitya." 

"Mama... I..." 

"You're going to be the best in the world, right? You can't do that by being a floozie fairy boy. Stop crying. get out there. Be a good boy and do as you're told." 

"Mama, please, I" 

"You what? This is a chance for you to redeem yourself. Do it well and there's a chance I don't tell your father." Galina's voice wavered slightly, even she couldn't quite believe what she had just said.

Viktor's heart tore in two at that threat, he ripped open the car door, crying as he ran to the door of the rink, opening it and stepping inside, the corners of his vision going dark as he felt the blood begin to rush to his face as the adrenaline swarmed his chest. When he heard the door open behind him, he started running again, running through the locker room and out to the ice, colliding into Yakov before he even took in where he was. The rink was familiar and should have calmed him down a little, but instead it only amplified everything, the stress reaching an unbearable level as his muscles started to shake and each breath became less and less functional. 

"Oi what the fuck are y-" Yakov barked, turning around before looking at Viktor, his heart sinking as he saw the desperate state the boy was in. 

"Help me... please..." Viktor sobbed, holding onto Yakov, before jolting out his skin when he saw Galina appear behind him and grab him by the shoulders, forcing the bag into his hands. 

Yakov's stomach turned as he watched the tension grow unbearably between the two. The way she stared at Viktor lacing up his skates, the way he didn't dare even look up as he adjusted his ponytail and stepped onto the Ice, not even asking to interrupt one of the private coaching sessions. It was evident in every one of Viktor's movements that he needed help. The teen moved onto the ice as fast as he could, getting to the opposite side in a matter of moments. He was panting before he had even started to move on the ice. 

"Fifty." Galina spoke loudly across the ice, enough for her son to halt what he was doing, listening intently for her order. "Fifty Quad flips." He nodded shyly and took a deep breath. 

Yakov pulled Galina by the arm, looking at Viktor for a moment, watching the tears and blood on his face mingle into one as he began the entry to his first jump. He led her into his office, watching as his other student left the ice and began to watch Viktor. 

Galina always carried a clicker to make sure he met the required amount. She didn't even listen to what Yakov was saying. She was staring through the glass and looking over onto the rink. click. click. click. 

  
"Viktor?" Yuuri's voice cut through his flashback, and he instinctively grabbed around for his hand.  
"Oh Viktor, there you are. Hey, you're safe. It's okay."  
-  
Yuri kept running. The night was biting cold, and the wind whipped his skin. The ice slid under his feet as he ran, all of his previous training suddenly flying out his mind as he found himself falling to the ground, scraping his newly bruised face. He clambered to his feet with a small sob and continued. He ran to what he remembered to be the hospital and went in through the main entrance, ignoring all the stares and staff approaching him, reading the signs towards the department Yuuri had told him about before. He didn't know what it was, but something was pulling him there, his chest growing tighter and tighter as the familiar breathlessness and stinging eyes of panic came to greet him. The bad decision of running on an ankle that he had injured with a popped jump landing during his performance mere hours ago was beginning to creep up on him as the pain began to shoot up his leg. 

He approached the department, tears running down his face as he continued his desperate search for safety. He started to limp as he continued to make his way around, looking around to see any signs, any hint of Viktor or Yuuri's presence. He began cracking at his knuckles, not even noticing when his hairtie snapped, the hair falling out and sticking to his wet face. 

"Yuri?" A Familiar old man's voice made him look up to see an approaching Yakov. Without a second thought, he ran up to him, wiping his eyes and trying his hardest to compose himself. "Kid you look like shit. What happened? You're bleeding." 

Yuri held a hand to his cheek, wincing at the feeling. He suddenly remembered what he had been threatened with if he breathed a word of what happened. The fear crawled up through his stomach and into muscles, making his arms start to tremble as he crossed them in a weak attempt to remain calm. "Where are they?" 

"Why?" 

"Am I not allowed to want to see them?" 

"You're hiding something from me Yura. I don't like it." 

"So what if I am? I'm almost 17 I'm allowed to have secrets I'm not a fucking kid Yakov- Now where's Viktor?" He spoke hurriedly, his voice cracking embarrassingly as he tucked his hair behind his ears while he looked around, seeing a name written on a whiteboard outside the door he was stood infront of. "Here." 

"Yuratchka." Yakov put a hand on the boy's shoulder and encouraged him to sit down. "You're scared. Why?" 

"None of your fucking business old man-" 

"That's bullshit. Don't talk to me like that. Now. Tell me what's up." 

"I can't." His voice began to tremble as he started to run back through everything that happened. 

"Why not?" 

"I have to keep quiet." 

This was disgustingly familiar to Yakov. He looked to the door of Viktor's room, remembering the countless times he had to comfort Viktor though all the threats and orders of secrecy. "Fine. I won't press, but you will tell me who. Because I know you know whoever did this." 

Yuri absently looked at the door, and back to Yakov, rather relieved when he instantly understood. 

"What's the number for police in this country? I never could remember." Yakov muttered as he pulled out his phone. "That bitch needs to get put away for good." 

-


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!! sorry this one took a while, I was focusing my energy on my own skating practice and I didn't have a chance to write for a while. Hope you enjoy :)
> 
> shorter for dramatic effect? (also because I've been busy but shhh)

"Viktor?" The voice brought him back to the present. 

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry..." he started, the distress tinting his voice ever so slightly enough to make Yuuri frown and move to his eye level. 

"Hey," Yuuri held his hands, not knowing of what to do. "What have you got to be sorry for?" 

"everything, I'm so sorry for everything..." 

"Don't, you've done nothing wrong. It's okay." 

"What are you talking about? I... I've done so much wrong and I keep hurting you." 

"whatever makes you think that? I love you so much, you never have and you never will do anything to hurt me, okay? all you did was worry me, that's all. we all know how I get." 

Viktor stayed quiet at that remark, his hands starting to shake as he realised where he was once more, and what had happened to him, how it felt when he hit the ice, the blinding cold engulfing his face, and how it felt like his brain had been thrown down the stairs, firecrackers going off inside his skull. He remembered putting his arm out to catch himself at the last second, not being awake long enough to really feel it collapsing under his body weight. He remembered hearing the distorted sound of gasps, almost like he was at the bottom of a pool. He blinked, feeling tears stab at his eyes, suddenly mortified at his moment of vulnerability. He looked away from the nurse, and only slightly in Yuuri's direction, vision reduced to the blurred pale blue of the hospital linoleum. He looked up when the door was knocked on, instinctual fear starting to crawl along his insides and up his spine, goosebumps trailing along the bottom of his face. 

"Can I come in?" The small voice spoke in accented English, shy and unsure in comparison to his usual aggressiveness. 

"Yurio?" Viktor asked, his voice tremoring slightly with worry as to what might have happened to the boy. 

"Da, it's me. Can I come in?" The boy asked once more, rocking on his heels as he awaited a response, his hands nervously picking at a loose thread on the inside of his jacket pocket, wincing as he dropped on his bad ankle again. 

Yuuri walked to the door, opening it slowly, watching as the teen rushed to Viktor's bedside, unsure of what to do. 

"Damn," Viktor began, looking at the boy and taking in his worsened condition. 

"You look like shit, old man." Yuri muttered with a small, forced smile to try and make the situation slightly better. 

"I could say the same for you, but more importantly, what happened? are you okay?" He asked, his voice laced with concern. He looked at the boy's hair, then the grazed, dark bruise blooming against his pale cheekbone. He watched the boy trembling gently, undoubtedly with a flood of adrenaline, making him look less like the brave tiger of russia and more like a frightened kitten. The leg of his pants was wet and covered in dirt, and he was noticably favouring his right leg. He looked up at the boy's eyes, his gaze was averted to the wall, and his face was red and puffy from obvious crying. 

"Yeah, just upset about how badly I fucked it in the free skate. that's all." He lied through his teeth as he turned away, looking around the hospital room for something to make a distraction with. He could never look someone in the eyes and lie. He wasn't that much of an awful person. 

"That's Bullshit." Viktor switched to Russian, only feeling slightly guilty that Yuuri was there and unable to understand what he was saying, knowing that he had a tendency to believe other people were talking about him. In this situation, given what he wanted to talk about, he knew it was probably best for him not to understand, and to prevent more panic attacks. "Who hurt you? what happened?" 

"I-" 

"Yurio, you're a child. you got kidnapped. right?" when the boy stayed silent, Viktor pressed further. "Your face wasn't like that when I saw you at the competition. Might be my head injury, but you definitely have been hit. Yuuri told me that you screamed and were warning him on the phone. What happened?" 

"Viktor, it doesn't matter." 

"Of course it does. What happened? If you're not going to tell me about what happened to you exactly then at least tell me what happened in the hotel-" 

"JUST SHUT UP!" The boy snapped, his voice cracking with desperation and his body shaking as he looked at the two older men who were taken aback by his sudden shout. "Look. I cannot fucking do this right now, okay? I came here because I wanted to see you because of what happened today. But if you're going to turn this into a fucking trial then I may as well get on my way then." 

The door opened again, and in walked Yakov, concerned at the shouting. He had his phone in one hand, and an overpriced machine coffee in the other. 

"Yuri, Vitya has a fucking head injury could you not be more considerate?" He hissed in a warning, making the boy sit down on one of the chairs in the room, going to talk to Viktor, suddenly filled with an almost parental sense of concern. 

"Hi," Viktor began, watching as Yuuri excused himself to use the bathroom, his eyes following him out the door and along the corridor until he was out of view. 

"Oh Vitya. You okay?" 

"Mostly, yeah. Just a bit... I don't know... Jarred? I genuinely had no idea I was going to fall like that, much less on my head, and-" He cut himself off as another white-hot flash of pain ran through his skull, bringing his hand to his temple with a wince. "I'm just confused at it all." 

"Understandably so. What the fuck were you thinking? Training at 1AM? not eating?" 

"Yakov, please don't turn this into a lecture-" 

"No. I'm going to, you know why? You scared me today." 

Viktor halted what he was doing at that, so did the younger boy who was sitting incredibly incorrectly in the creaky plastic chair near his bed. What did he just say? 

He continued, looking Viktor in the eyes, suddenly seeing the scared boy that would run to him for help instead of the six-time world champion that everyone wanted to be. "Sure, you were skating good, but it was so obvious in every moment that you were scared shitless, and you were visibly pushing yourself beyond what you could do. Nobody else picked up on it, but I did. Because I've seen you skating for almost 20 years. I've seen what it looks like to see you skating after your mother beat you senseless and starved you, I've seen you running on empty, and today was beyond that. You were eating yourself up as fuel. You were so determined to win that you forgot that you were only human. It's because she showed up. Now i have no idea how she found you or what happened to make her want to see you again, but you cannot let that useless, pathetic excuse of a mother make you do this. You were so obviously skating to impress her, not anything for yourself. You were killing yourself out there. All that shit she made you believe? it's useless. you managed to push it out of your head when you ran away and didn't see her for years. You have to do that again. You have to forget her and you have to start taking care of yourself for fucks sake." 

Viktor's eyes were blown wide with contained shock, entirely unable to find any utterance to respond with. 

"You're not just the kid that was shut out from the world and any sense of social life anymore. You've got friends, a husband. People who need you. Viktor, you have so many people that need you to take care of yourself and fucking speak up when you're not okay." 

Viktor swallowed nervously before finding the courage to ask a question. "Where is she now?" 

"That's what I've been trying to get this one to tell me." Yakov gestured to Yuri, taking a sip of his coffee, his face recoiling slightly as the stale taste flooded his mouth. 

"Wait," Viktor stammered, looking at the boy, "you mean to tell me that my fucking mother did this?" Yuri's gesture of turning away completely, facing the window confirmed it. 

Viktor felt the nausea claw at his insides as he lurched forward, covering his mouth and reaching for one of the paper bowls that were in a stack by his bedside, grabbing the top one just in time as the meager contents of his stomach emptied into the bowl, his eyes stinging and his head pulsing with the motion. He hissed as he bet over the bowl again, the sound turning into a pained noise. He tried to ignore the appalled looks of his visitors, trying to remind himself that they didn't mean any insult.

When he was sure that he wouldn't throw up again, he put his head back onto the pillow, the soft impact feeling like a baseball bat to the back of his head, resulting in a small involuntary whine. He closed his eyes, the overhead light boring into his skull. He didn't open them nor move his head as he heard the door open again, instead waiting for whoever had just walked in to talk. 

"I found some cool videos on YouTube of our perfor- oh no, what happened?" Came the familiar voice of his husband, hushed and hurried as he took the bowl from his hand and placed it on the table that had been pushed away to make room for cuddling. 

"I just felt sick and now my head hurts. Don't worry." Viktor mumbled as he felt his eyes grow heavy, the noise of the room dissolving into the background in a low buzz, the attempts to touch him feeling tingly. The darkness and the stillness erupting from his core and spreading throughout his entire body. Weakness overcame him, and all colour was gone from his face, his head rolling to the side of his wound, and he stopped moving. 

"Viktor?" 

"Hey, Vitya?" 

"Viktor are you okay?"


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: FLASHBACK AND GRAPHIC DESCRIPTIONS OF PHYSICAL ABUSE AND VIOLENCE.
> 
> (I'm aware that this has a mild contraction to chapter 1, apologies for that.)

Viktor was suddenly plunged far into his own memory, the hospital falling away into the background as he fell into the pits of his mind. 

It was a cold day in late December, the snow piled up on the sides of the road, and it wouldn't stop falling. The trees had long since shed their leaves and now the branches stuck out like jagged clawed hands, almost as if they would pick up the next passer-by. The world was grey and lifeless, the only colour to be seen were the cars speeding past and the clothing of the people all walking past, making their ways faster than usual, nobody wanting to get stuck in the cold. The air was thick with the scent of emissions mixed with ice, but all Viktor could perceive was his lungs growing heavier with anticipation. 

He walked into the rink, his bag hitting his leg right on the bruise he had sustained the night before. The temperature change from the bitingly cold outdoor streets to the heated building was satisfying to say the least. The lobby of the rink wasn't cheerful in the slightest, it had a strange colour scheme of aqua and crimson, and had peeling posters and flyers on the walls. Viktor looked to the wall behind the front desk, looking at the team photos and the trophy cabinets. The ink on the photos was fading, and the trophies were visibly gathering dust. Much like his own attitude to the sport. He mumbled his greetings to the staff, his vision swaying, finding a bench to preemptively put on his skates. 

He made his way to the Ice as he had done 4 times a week, every week for the past 11 years, confident he could find his way with his eyes closed by now. He looked down at his feet as he walked, the wall of the rink coming into his vision. 

A pair of heeled boots came into view, making him look up. 

"where were you last night?" Her face was pulled into a tight scowl, her head tilted upwards slightly as it became glaringly apparent with each ticking second that she was beyond annoyed. She was dressed in the same long black coat she never seemed to grow out of. Her hair was tied in a neat ponytail, not unlike his own. 

"Doesn't matter. Let me skate." 

"No. Answer me boy." She hissed, grabbing him by the arm, her grip growing tighter. He made an attempt to wrench himself free, being met with a slap to the face. "Don't you dare try to ignore me." 

"With a friend, does it matter?" 

"You're lying. You don't have any fucking friends." 

"Why would I lie to you? it doesn't matter just let me-" 

"of course it matters you idiot." She let go of his arm for a moment, only to take it straight back as she stared at him. 

"Mama, I-" 

"Shut the fuck up." She growled, cold blue eyes meeting his in a stare. "Why didn't you come home? Why didn't you tell me where you were? Why didn't you talk to me all night?" 

"Because." Viktor looked up at his mother, all submission gone from his stance as he finally gathered the courage. "I fucking hate you and I needed to escape." The words left his mouth like steam, and right as he said them he wanted to force them back in, knowing he couldn't have made a worse decision. He tried to rush forward onto the ice where she couldn't reliably chase him. 

She grabbed ahold of his hair, pulling him backwards and onto his back, the thud of his body against the floor much louder than she had intended. "I MAKE YOU THE FUCKING CHAMPION. I SACRIFICE EVERYTHING FOR YOU AND YOU 'HATE ME'? YOU HATE ME? I'VE DONE EVERYTHING FOR YOU, YOU UNGRATEFUL LITTLE FUCKING PIG-" She screamed, grabbing him by the shoulders as he scrambled to his feet, trying to run away. 

He felt his heartbeat in his ears, and his chest aching with his quickened pulse. Goosebumps spread through his body and adrenaline filled his blood, his fight or flight activated and screaming at him to fly. 

He made it as far as the locker room before she grabbed his hair again, tearing long silvery strands out and slamming his face into the nearest wall, doing it again far harder when she saw him block the impact with his arms. His face scraped against the bricks, the feeling of his skin splitting causing pain to blossom across his forehead, and he reflexively kicked his leg backwards to free himself, shocked at what he had done when it worked. She made another grab for him, countered with another flailed and desperate kick. He kept running, back through the corridors lined with old event posters and photos from long ago, back through the advertisements to join other local sports clubs, knowing that he was running for his life. His ankles jarring with each uneven step upon his skates. 

"HOW FUCKING DARE YOU! GET BACK HERE!" came her distant, feral screech, lost on Viktor's ears as he came to a screeching halt, blood starting to trickle down his face as he stared straight at his coach who had just walked into the lobby, with a far smaller blond child not far behind him. 

The rampaging monster of a mother erupted into view once more, sending lightning down Viktor's spine and making him quiver in his stance as he stumbled backwards, some ingrained instinct making him crave a distance between them to feel as safe as possible.

The staff and other adults of the rink quickly moved between the mother and son, one of the receptionists whispering a call to the police. 

"What the fuck have you done? Why are you doing this? You're getting me in trouble for no reason? He was the one hurting me first! He's just like his father- a violent monster!" She cried out desperately, weaving her vision between the people to look at Viktor. 

Viktor felt the tears drop from his face as he watched her desperate attempts to lie to cover up her abuse. Why would he ever initiate an attack on her? The very idea of it stabbed at his guts and made him shiver. She knew what she was doing was wrong. It was evident in her body language and in the expression she made. She knew that she was the furthest thing from a mother. Sure, she had her good moments, but they were always tinted black with the moments like these. Moments of her blinding, animalistic rage when she was met with someone who wouldn't submit. She was so desperate for control. She never did anything like this to his sister, she never did anything when she knew people were watching. She knew that she was wrong in so many ways, but why did she keep doing this? Why did she crave the control? He felt his hair stick to the scrape, the pain aggravated as he scrunched his face to try and move it, petrified to even attempt any other movements. He stared at her, his face itching as tears rolled down his cheeks and spilled onto his shirt. 

"I'm sorry, baby, I didn't mean to hurt you, I'm so sorry my dear boy..." She spoke softly, her voice dripping with a chilling kindness. "I love you, you know that? I love you more than anything baby..." her words echoed through his mind. "Be a good boy and tell them all what really happened, alright? it's just a misunderstanding, right baby?" 

He had never been so disgusted in his life.

\--------- 

Yuuri knew something was wrong within seconds of Viktor losing consciousness. 

When his heart monitor began to accelerate again, the beeps began to mirror his own heartbeat as the looming sea of anxiety threatened to overcome him again. Instinct made him move his feet before he even thought of what to do. 

He rushed out into the corridor, looking for a doctor, and thankfully finding Dr Han walking past. 

"Mr Katsuki?" 

"Please, it's Viktor... h-he... he threw up and then he passed out and now his heart rate is going super fast... and I..." 

The doctor rushed into the room, taking another pair of staff with him, ushering the visitors out of the room. The three were stood in the corridor, speechless and unknowing what to do, the two russian men finding themselves accidentally staring at Yuuri.

In a few moments, they were moved to a 'family room', a private waiting area that was sectioned off from the patient area of the ward. The walk there couldn't have taken more than a minute, yet it felt like an eternity. Yuuri's heart ached with longing and worry, each step he took further from his room felt like walking on knives. He didn't want to leave him, he needed to be near him. The nurse led them inside the room, and he didn't even look up. 

The room was around the same size as the treatment room Viktor had been placed in, but was comprised far differently. There were a pair of black couches in the right corner, with a window overlooking the vast city. The blinds were open, showing the streetlights outside like a mimicry of the stars. The snow had settled rather thickly, and a small amount of it had been kicked off the windowsill by some small creature. The room, again had that clinical scent to it, one that Yuuri was growing to despise. A TV was mounted from the wall and was facing the couches, on the wall directly opposite was a small desk with a chipped cupboard attached to it, which upon closer inspection had bottles of juice and water in it. The overhead light was far too bright for his tired eyes, only making him feel more exasperated and overwhelmed after the day from hell. When he woke up this morning in Viktor's arms, this is the last place he imagined himself as the day ended. So much could happen in 24 hours. The walls of thw room were painted in a eerie white, and the sparse decoration of a pinboard lacked any life, (other than several support flyers and ads on 'how you can quit smoking today in 10 easy steps!') 

Yuuri watched as the other two sat down, The teen fumbling around trying to find the remote to turn on the TV. 

The screen flashed onto the sports channel by pure chance, and it was showing the coverage of the event, a night screen rerun. The time was now nearing the very last reaches of the day.  
"and suffering a brutal defeat in the free skate to place sixth, was last year's champion, 16-year-old Yuri Plisetsky." came the perpetually annoying voice of the commentator, talking over the footage of before he took the ice. 

"I don't want to see this." the kid mumbled before trying to change the channel, too tired to protest when Yakov took the remote from his hands. 

Yuri had his hair tied back tightly, his face was visibly blown wide with shock. Yakov and Lilia were there too, trying to talk to him, but the boy looked so shaken up, looked like he had forgotten everything. The way that his figure shook as he took off his jacket, it was in every movement he made.The cameras zoomed in as he took the ice, and Yuuri moved to the other couch, watching as the teen pulled the strings on his hoodie to form a makeshift blindfold. "God this is so embarassing-" he whined. 

"Not embarrassing, given the context." Yakov interjected. "I gave you every opportunity to not go on." 

"What was I meant to do?" The boy snapped back, facing his coach. 

"You were in no fit state. You just got the news right then." 

"Your fault." 

"What?" 

"You could have told me afterwards." 

The two Russians ceased their conversation as they watched the replay of the events of the final; The blond boy cringing inwards at each popped jump, at each misstep, at each comment on his failures. 

"I could have done so much better." 

"Yuratchka, don't beat yourself up over this. You can come back in your next competition. You're more than talented enough." 

"I get one piece of bad news and I forget my program I'm such a dumb piece of-" 

"The man that raised you died. You're still a child, that's bound to shatter you." 

The russian teen looked away from them both, hiding his head in his hands. 

"You didn't go get your score, either, you just ran off." Yuuri started, making the younger boy look up at the TV, displaying his low score for a few moments before the footage faded into Yuuri's second place performance. 

The zoom in of him and Viktor hugging before he went on made his heart grow heavy as he sighed, taking off his glasses. He was so tired. Every time he shut his eyes, he saw him fall again. He looked down at the ring on his hand, then back up at the TV, his brain making the connection between the events on the screen. He lazily lifted his hand to his face, placing a small kiss onto his ring. He watched himself from hours earlier, watching the way he kicked himself off onto the ice, the way the audience flashed what seemed like a thousand japanese flags. 

'Oh Viktor' he thought, watching as he relived the moment of his performance once more. 'please be okay. I'm so sorry about everything. I love you. I love you so fucking much. You're my world. Please be okay... please be okay...'


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Local time for me at time of upload is 3:09AM, my apologies for the bad quality of this chapter

Yuuri watched himself skate, his mind overtly critical as usual. He watched the camera angles change with his jumps, cringing at his slightly popped landing of a particular one. The ache in his heart burned when he saw the camera pan to Viktor, who had a coach's pass hung on his neck over his skater's one, and had his old team training jacket on from his first olympics on over his skating costume to seem somewhat like a coach. Viktor had such an obvious look of admiration in his eyes, of pride, and of love, all at once. He cast his mind back to the hug Viktor gave him when he left the ice after his performance, absentminedly pulling at his jacket slightly in an attempt to replicate the feeling. 

"Now, the headline of the evening," The commentators began to each other as Viktor's face came into view on the TV. 

All three of them cringed and shivered at varying degrees when they saw it, it was somehow worse watching it again and knowing what was coming. The three sat in silence as they watched, not wanting to but unable to look away. They watched him skate, each minute beautifully enthralling. 

"Seeing as Nikiforov did infact finish his program before the accident occurred as shown on the screen now, he did get scored, and completely smashed his last record, taking first place as was expected of his comeback. He really proved himself to be the best, but at what cost? The medal ceremony and exhibition performances will be rescheduled until he is recovered. We hope he recovers soon." 

The amount the cameras zoomed in on the fall and replayed it was beyond unfair. It was torturous. Yuuri could still feel it all, the way his heart fell to his feet when he saw it happen. The way his eyes stung with tears and his chest burned with terror when he saw the blood seep out from his head. He remembered all the possibilities he ran through his mind, getting lost in his fearfulness again, pulled to a stop when he heard the teenager speak. 

"So..." Yuri swallowed nervously, his face stinging as he moved it. "What are we going to do about... her?" 

The other two halted; turning to look at Yuri, each of them speechless at the unpleasant and uncomfortable conversation that needed to happen. 

"I don't know. I really don't." Yuuri sighed as he brought his knees to his chin, hiding his face slightly in them and making his glasses jolt a little. 

"We have to do something. She's completely fucking mental." 

"No shit." Yakov began, sighing as he looked at his phone again. "I called the police, and they've said they'd get back to me." 

"They'd get back to you? what kind of bullshit is that?" the teenager spat, running a hand through his hair and brushing it out of his face again. 

"Yeah... that's... not what..." Yuuri's voice trailed off as he thought. "what are we going to do? she has people in the hotel-" 

"Fuck." 

"Fuck indeed." 

"Do we switch rooms with other people? so like if she's going to Vik's room it's that swiss fucker instead or something?" 

"No, she knows Chris. That wouldn't work and he'd probably get unnecessarily hurt. Especially after..."Yakov trailed off, taking a sip of the awful coffee to keep himself quiet. 

"After what?" Yuuri asked, genuinely curious as to what he might respond with. 

"It's irrelevant. What we need to do is figure out where we're going to stay tonight. Identify the fake staff, call the skating union I don't know but we need to put this all to bed and finally get some fucking rest without wondering where the next attack will come." 

"I couldn't possibly sleep." The teenager sighed, a slight shudder in his voice as he looked up at the TV, watching the final rankings and seeing himself dead last. He muttered a swear in Russian, getting a glare from the older man as he switched the channel to a weird late-night talk show. 

"Me neither." Yuuri mumbled, looking at his ring and then at the door, hiding his face in his knees completely as he felt tears begin to blur his vision again. 

\------------------------------------ 

Viktor's mind morphed from the nightmare home rink in Russia when he was a teen, to the rink that he would never forget for as long as he lived. 

Being who they were, of course Viktor and Yuuri had a rink at their wedding. It was funny, seeing the professionals vs the family and friends who were sliding and falling all over the place. It was nothing like the ones they practiced at, decorated wonderfully with the same blue flowers as the rest of their wedding, and had a pride flag hung from the wall. The day was nothing short of perfection. He still remembered the way they both burst into tears when they first saw each other at the altar, wiping each others eyes with love. The way that they held each others hands for far longer than necessary when exchanging the rings, the way they never let go of each other for almost the whole day. The way that they cried in each others arms. "I've made it." Viktor kept saying, much to the confusion of the others, but Yuuri instantly knew what he was referring to. Viktor was finally accepting and loving himself for being gay, and he had gotten the husband of his dreams. Yuuri kept thinking back to his 11 year old self, joking about how he'd marry Viktor one day. Never in a million years had he imagined it would be true. 

Their first dance wasn't a traditional one, but a pair skate. They couldn't stop giggling the whole time, the two were giddy on the high of the day. It had gone perfectly, despite the initial anxiety with both grooms. There was such a sense of happiness in the air. Everyone was smiling and watching, some filming. The two skating together was truly the most beautiful sight, it was evident in each movement not only the love they had for each other, but the love for their art. 

Once the two had finished, they went off to go grab a drink together while the guests all swarmed onto the ice. He remembered sitting higher up and looking down on everything, his arm around Yuuri, unable to feel anything other than contentness. Viktor had never thought much of the idea of marriages growing up, given that his parents were held together by a thread and that he automatically assumed he'd have to marry a woman. But when he met Yuuri, he felt a kind of love he had never known before. He didn't know how to describe it, other than he knew that he would do anything and everything just to make him smile. He finally had something other than trophies, medals and a dog. He had love. He had family. He was complete. He picked a flower from the multitude decorating the bench they were sat on, tucking it behind Yuuri's ear, delighting at the way he giggled ever so softly. 

Suddenly, he was back on the ice, and entering into a jump. 

The same white hot flash of pain engulfed his head yet again, unable to move as he fell into a crumpled heap onto the ice. The pain from his accident shooting through his entire body. His vision shook as he tried to open his eyes, the familiar scene of the post-postwedding party having fallen away and all he could see was a strange, lifeless room. 

"No. That's not what should have happened." The voice was chilling, and instantly recognizable. His mother's face came into view again, as did that of his father's. The searing pain pulsed through his head again, the numbing impact on his flesh beginning to burn as his mind shifted again, taking his best ever memory to the worst one. His mind was torturing him. 

He remembered his father's roars, his desperate attempts to run away, being held down and beaten. Again and again, he didn't stop. Not when he bled, not when he cried for him to stop. 

He heard someone calling his name, again and again. 

He was pulled from his dreamlike state with a scream, sweating and panting, raw, animalistic terror filling his entire body. His first instinct was to take the awful, sticky tube out of his hand and sit up, his skin engulfed in a cold sweat. His hand was stopped from pulling at his other one by an unfamiliar voice. 

"Viktor? it's alright, listen to me-" the doctor began, jolting backwards slightly when Viktor shrank backwards in his bed, trying to get away. 

"Don't come any closer." The Russian stammered, looking the doctor up and down. 

"Okay... it's okay... I'll stand over there." Dr Han walked a few paces infront of the door, relaxing slightly when he saw Viktor's rapid heartbeat begin to slow. "I just want to help." 

"You're with her... aren't you?" 

"Mr Nikiforov? I don't follow..." 

"if I listen to you- you'll just let her here and-" 

"Woah... slow down... you're in the hospital, I'm a doctor. my primary concern is you, I have no ulterior motives to that." 

"You're not Yuuri; Where's Yuuri? why isn't he here? I need to see him... where... oh no... did she take him? did she... she..." 

"Viktor, Look at me. Yuuri is in the Family room with the two other men that visited you. They have been for the last two and a half hours. He's safe, Okay? you're completely safe. Nobody is going to hurt you, okay? I'll send a nurse to go get him. I just need to help you." 

"Help? what help? I dont need your help... please... just get away from me..." the desperation in his voice was simply heartbreaking to witness. 

"Mr Nikiforov... nobody is going to hurt you. What can I do to prove that to you? Look, I'm staying right here, by the door, alright? I'm not coming any closer nor do I intend to."Dr han held his hands up slightly, to show he was no threat. 

"I... I... Don't... I..." All thoughts were wiped from his mind as he burst into tears, sobbing uncontrollably. It was such raw emotion and desperation, never seen in a public setting from Viktor. The tears ran down his face as he hid his head in his hands, curling up slightly. He whined a little when his bad wrist bent in the wrong direction, and he was gradually brought back to reality. Here he was. In a hospital, miles and miles away from home, his head bashed in, his wrist broken and worst of all, his mother had started hurting the family he had found for himself. It all became too much as he started to sob again, overcome by intense longing to throw himself into Yuuri's arms and never let go of him again.


	10. Chapter 10

"Your husband will be here soon." the doctor spoke slowly and carefully to Viktor, keeping his distance as requested. "It's passed to the next day now, and you still haven't had your evening dose of your meds so I'll go get that for you, okay?" 

Viktor nodded slowly, watching as the doctor left the room, suddenly feeling very stressed when he was alone. He kept his eyes glued to the window, looking into the corridor to see if there was any possible chance that she could possibly creep up on him. He moved the table over his bed and leant his elbows on it, interlocking his fingers and resting his forehead against his hands, staring up through the gap he'd made. His eyes darted left and right, desperate to be prepared for any possibility. On-edge wouldn't describe it well enough. 

The instinctual alertness and fear began to dissipate when he saw Yuuri coming down the corridor with a doctor. 

The door to his room opened again, and he thought of nothing else as he weakly rose to his feet, standing up next to his bed and pulling Yuuri into a desperate hug, burying his face close to him. He let out a few small whimpers, trying to hold himself together and failing miserably. He let out a sob, letting himself go as he cried in his husband's arms. He held him tightly, breathing him in and holding onto him for dear life, afraid to let go. He took in his warmth, his scent, his touch, all of it instantly recognizable with his eyes closed. He breathed slower, slightly more relaxed with each passing second. 

"are you alright sweetheart?" Yuuri broke the silence, pulling away slightly, just enough to look Viktor in the eyes. They were full of torment, weakness, and vulnerability never before seen in him. He looked so tired, defeated even. It made his heart sink. 

"Better now that you're with me again. I'm sorry..." His voice was brittle, and he lost his balance slightly. 

Yuuri helped him sit back down on the bed, taking a seat next to him on the bed, placing a small kiss to Viktor's cheek, just under the bruise from his fall. "You have nothing to apologise for, genuinely. It's just shitty circumstances." 

"you can say that again." Viktor giggled softly, interlocking their hands, the feeling of his cast unfamiliar and heavy. "you should probably sign this at some point, make it look cute and all." 

"How are you feeling now?" 

"Honestly?" 

"Honestly." 

"Freaked out. Scared. I don't want any of this to be happening. My head hurts, my hand feels weird, I feel cold and sick and like I'm not in control of anything...I feel like the worst person ever and an even worse husband... I've got you in so much danger... and the kid? Yurio? he's probably scarred for life... and that only happened because he knows me. What is she going to do to you..." Viktor trailed off at the end, unsure of what to say as he started to work himself up again. "I thought I'd managed to escape from her and all her shit. She's clearly off meds. she never did take them. I don't know what else she's going to pull... I dont know how to keep you safe... I'm so sorry I never prepared for this..." 

"Just... don't think about that right now, okay? no point in working yourself up over this. Just... focus on me, okay? focus on my voice and the fact that I'm right here with you. whatever might happen next with her, is nothing that you can control. you are not to blame for what she does. you're your own person just as much as she is hers. I know it's awful, and I wish it weren't happening, but it has happened, and all we can do now, all we need to do? is focus on you getting better." 

"I love you so much. I don't deserve you..." 

"I love you too, and yes, you do. Although I'm not much, I truly value you and appreciate you." 

"Not much?!" Viktor turned to face Yuuri, his hands on his shoulders. "Yuuri Katsuki you are my entire world. You walked into my life and brought with you love, care, appreciation, everything I never knew before. You gave me something to live for, gave me something to love, something to keep going for. I'm nothing without you. You're everything I need in life. You make my life worth it." 

"Vitya, I..." 

"I can't even remember what life was like without you. You make me more happy than I've ever been. Marrying you was the best decision I ever made." He whispered, before pulling him into a long, loving kiss. It was evident in every movement he was searching for comfort and consolation. The kiss was a brief moment of clarity and sunshine in the midst of the tornado that had been the events of the day. 

The moment was broken by a doctor and a nurse entering. 

"I'm sorry, I don't want to interrupt anything", the doctor began, setting down a blue tray with a few different medicines in it and a plastic cup full of water. "It's medication time. You need to take these with food, and especially since you admitted to not eating for a while, and the fact you threw up." 

The nurse walked in, setting down the same blue tray only this one had a needle and equipment for a blood test. "I've got to take another blood draw, I'm sorry." 

"Ah. That's fine. Which first?" 

"Blood test, I'll be quick I promise." 

Viktor extended his arm, facing away from the nurse as he began to clear a site for the draw. He cuddled into Yuuri, not daring to look. Ever since he was a child, blood made him feel uneasy. It was always associated with his worst memories. 

"You okay?" Yuuri asked, his smile audible through his speech and giving away that he found Viktor nothing short of adorable. 

"Fine." He mumbled, wincing and holding Yuuri tighter when he felt the needle enter into his arm. 

When the nurse was finished and put a bandage on his arm, Viktor moved back to his prior position. 

"What do you want to eat? You hungry?" Yuuri asked him quietly, a hand on his knee in an attempt to comfort him. 

"I don't know, I'm not sure...feel kind of sick at the thought of food." 

"means you're very hungry." The doctor spoke with a sigh, "you're on a drip but that just keeps your body from running out of fuel to keep functioning. it doesn't even compare to a meal. You need to take this medication with food in your stomach otherwise it will make you feel much worse." 

"Ah." Viktor stated simply. 

Yuuri turned his attention to the doctor, "is there any restrictions as to what he can eat?" 

"No, he can eat anything, but just be careful with eating too fast, don't want to throw up again." The doctor said as he looked through his notes. 

"Hmm... what's the time?" 

"1:46 AM. Not much open. Except the 24hr drive thru round the corner." 

"Fast food? can't remember the last time I had anything like that." Viktor mumbled, "well other than teremok... I was never allowed to." 

"You want some? I can go get it." Yuuri smiled at him, turning into a frown when he saw Viktor tense up. 

"yeah that sounds great but.. I don't want you to leave..." 

"it won't take long..." 

"please... just stay..." 

"Vitya..." 

"Please, I don't want you to leave me..." 

"I'm not going to leave you, I'll be right back." 

"Yuuri please, it's not safe." 

"Viktor, you need to eat. the hospital won't have anything nice at this hour." 

"He's right on that one. Not much other than vending machines." the Dr interjected as he read through Viktor's notes. "it's literally like a two minute walk, I go there for my lunch breaks."   
  
It took a lot of convincing, but Viktor took another nap as another headache came on, and Yuuri went with Yuri, down the stairs and out onto the bitingly cold street; both of them yawning and mumbling to each other about everything. 

"Kinda sketchy being out this late." 

"yeah,given everything that's happened. might bump into Mrs fucking fuckface Nikiforov, might kill us." Yuri's tired and childish remark was tired and void of emotion. 

"don't say that..." 

"whatever. I want food and a nap." 

The pair made their way once the sign came into view, hunger and a need for energy driving them forwards. 

They walked into the restaurant, entirely deserted and the bright lights made them both squint awkwardly as the door closed behind them. They looked at the menu, unsure of what to get. The ordering screen was far preferable to a verbal order and the anxiety inducing ordeal of trying to talk to someone else entirely new. The red logo flashed and the screen came to life. 

"Coffee donut? what even is that? like both in one?" 

"I guess. sounds awful. I'm getting it." 

"What about that? oh god bro the fucking sugar in that- get me two. I've got cash." 

After a while of back and forths of 'I dont mind' when it came to actual food that would fill them up, they settled on something basic, getting Viktor and Yakov the same things. They waited by a booth, the youngest of the two sprawling on the red leather bench; making overexagerrated groans. Their order number was called by someone who looked far too young to be working a job this late, their voice thick with fatigue and having been run-down by their shift. 

"Here?" 

"I dont mind just give me mine now, I can eat and walk if you want. I'm fucking starving." Yuri whined, making a grab for one of the bags. 

The two walked back along the cold, early morning street, the amber glow of the streetlights leading them back to the hospital. The two still were in utter disbelief at what happened. Never before would they have guessed how the day would have turned out. 

"Are you alright? I don't know what happened..." 

"Don't really want to talk about it right now katsudon." Yuri mumbled, looking away. "it's fucked. that's all I'm gonna say." 

"I'm sorry." Yuuri uttered, unsure how to respond. 

"not your fucking fault. stop apologising for everything." The teen snapped, following humorously with, "sorry, that was a bit mean." 

"no, it's alright." 

The teen tucked a strand of his long blond hair behind his ear as he unwrapped his burger, taking a bite, "oh fuck yeah that's fantastic." He ate a bit more as they walked before continuing, "When you went with Viktor just then, is he okay? he say anything about his mother?" 

"Yeah, he will be okay, he's just a bit shaken up. we all are." He stopped for a minute before addressing the second question with a puzzled expression on his face. "Don't think he'd want to...why?" 

"nothing. it's fine." 

"you sure?" 

"yeah." 

Yuuri began to talk as they made their way into the parking lot. Absent minded babbling rather than anything that made sense. The snow began to pick up again, getting heavier in an incentive to get inside. The wind picked up, and Yuuri could make out the shape of someone standing alone. Their silhouette was somewhat identifiable, yet hard to make out. He didn't want to take his chances with who it could be, so he followed the teenager back inside.


	11. Mother knows best, part one.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hey hey, I'm back. 
> 
> The rollercoaster has only just started, so keep your limbs and belongings inside the ride at all times.

The arena was going wild. The cheers were driving him forward, pushing him further and further. His program had been flawless, and he was feeling the rush. The thrill of being on the ice and being the one to beat, knowing that everyone knew he was the champion. He began the entry to his third quad, the feeling of soaring through the air driving the adrenaline through him. 

He busted his landing, the knee of his landing foot connecting with the ice shortly before his face did. He got straight back up, and landed the next one perfectly. 

The rink was decorated with banners for the world championships, the logo on the ice beneath him and on the advertisements lining the walls of the rink. The event was huge, the arena was packed to the brim, the cameras were all focusing on him. The russian flags had all came out as he went on. He finished his spin, coming to a stop in the ending position, and basking in the wonder of the moment. The crowd went wild, and he found himself smiling wildly, that is, until he caught sight of his mother in the stands. 

She stared at him, her gaze imposing and it felt like she was impaling him with her vision. Her scowl was vivid and far colder than the ice as she made her way down to the ice as he left the rink. His mother had her hand on his back, hitting him light enough not to be noticed by the others but heavy enough to let him know her feelings. 

He sat down, shaking as they entered the kiss and cry, not having bothered to pick up any of the plushies or flowers dropped on the ice after he'd done his final bows. He instinctively sat on the further edge of the bench, thankful that Yakov was sat between them. 

"And Viktor Nikiforov's score for the short program is 86.03, leaving him in second place so far." 

He looked up at the screen, seeing himself, noting his wide-eyed look of fear behind his eyes. His hair was starting to fall out of the ponytail he was wearing, his face was flushed, his dark blue costume managed to hide his bruises well. He looked to his mother who was stood to the side of them, his eyes darting down to the grey floor that seemed to sparkle in his current state. 

Second? No... no that couldn't be right. Second? That wasn't the best. That's not good, that's the first loser. His heartbeat began to thunder in his ears as he got up, walking out of the rink and into the deserted hall, bringing his jacket with him. He had gotten colder as the blood fell to his feet. This was beyond bad. He saw her following him in his peripheral vision, fear pricking at his neck and making his head twitch involuntarily. 

"What the fuck was that? this was easy. You could have done that." 

"I know I'm sorry." 

"sorry? you're sorry?" 

"Mama-" 

"He did amazingly. Fucking appreciate that." Yakov interjected, noting the way his student was on edge and looking away, zipping up his red and white team jacket as an excuse not to talk. 

"He ate it on that jump, badly. cost him points. He's done this enough times to do it in his sleep. He should have nailed it." 

"That's not for you to comment on. I'm the fucking coach here. he did great." 

"Second." 

"Exactly. Second in the shorts at the world championships, at 16 fucking years old. you should be proud." 

"Don't try and tell me you think this is good enough." 

"it's more than good enough." 

"he has to be the best. he has to win. Extra practice for the long program tomorrow." 

"Get fucked Galina." Yakov took Viktor by the shoulder and began to walk him out and away, ignoring the high pitched screams of insults thrown their way. 

\-------------------------------------- 

The two walked back into the hospital, navigating their way through to the department. The corridors were empty almost entirely, save for a team rushing a bed through in the direction of the operating rooms. They walked in relative silence, unexpectant of what they came to see. Yuuri's heart was in his mouth as he approached Viktor's room, almost falling out entirely when he could better make out whatever was going on. 

Galina Nikiforov was stood with her forehead to the glass, looking at her son asleep in the hospital bed. Her hair was in a straggly ponytail behind her head, and the fur coat she had changed into had burnmarks and it smelled like it was made of roadkill. Her eyes were wide, unnaturally so. She detected their presence almost immediately, not addressing them but aware that they were there, all the same. Her stance was assured, confident in herself even though she had absolutely no right to be there. Viktor was still asleep, his face in the pillow. He looked peaceful for the first time in a long time. 

"Don't you dare." she spoke robotically, not moving from her position. "this is all I've wanted for the last 8 years do not fucking call security." 

"Gal-" 

"show me some fucking respect. if I'm your 'mother in law' " 

"You don't deserve his respect." the teen interjected 

"Be quiet you little runt. All i want is to see my son." 

"Why would he want to see you? after everything?" 

"How dare you, you don't know shit. stop trying to tell me everything I'm doing wrong just like everyone else in my fucking life. I need to see him." 

"Don't." 

"Don't what? no you know what? fuck you." She spat as she pushed her way inside his room, walking over to his bedside, easily wrenching free of the attempts made to restrain her. "hey, sweetheart, how's mama's little champion?-" her voice was uncharacteristically kind and warm as she whispered softly to her son in Russian, smiling at him, an indescribable feeling coursing through her as she had him again. She had her baby back. 

Viktor jolted as she shook him gently, a doe eyed look in his eyes replaced by fear as he realised where he was, and who was there. He moved backwards, right to the very edge of his bed, wincing as he hit the wall. Years of mistreatment and abuse coursed through his memory at once as she grabbed his hand, the action triggering memory after memory all at once. 

"Viktor it's okay," Yuuri began, noting the way his husband was reduced to that of a quivering child, visibly and utterly terrified by his own mother. "she's leaving. it's okay. she's going." 

"Oh am I? I don't think so." Galina opened the left side of her coat, and produced a pistol from her inside pocket, clicking off the safety and aiming it at the bridge of Yuuri's glasses. "Nobody is fucking going anywhere."


	12. Mother knows best- part two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this is a quick set of chapters all portraying one scene and exploring the deterioration of their relationship.

"What are you doing? why have you brought a gun in here?" 

"I'm the one in control. don't try and ask questions." 

"I don't want to see you. get out." 

"What are you talking about? of course you do." 

"no I don't." 

"You owe me a chance to make things right." 

"I don't owe you shit, Galina. Get out of here." 

"Can't you give your own mother a chance to talk?" 

"Talk? You want to fucking talk?" Viktor rose to his feet, taller than his mother at her full height, making her movements falter for a moment. "Fine. Let's fucking talk." 

"Why are you being so rude to me Vitenka? I just wanted to see you. it's been years. I know I left it on a bad note-" 

"A BAD NOTE?" Viktor was shaking, half from fear half from anger as a whirlwind of emotions coursed through him. "You sat there and watched while he beat me until I couldn't move. I was crying and begging for you to do something. you stared at me like I was shit on your shoes. It's your fucking fault that I ran away the night you took me home from the emergency room." 

Galina's eye twitched, sending needles of anxiety down their spines. She feigned putting the gun down for a minute before holding it inches away from Viktor's face, the action making him lose his balance momentarily "don't you dare fucking talk to me like that." 

Viktor trembled, feeling his lungs begin to burn as the familiar panic set in, and his mind began to drift. A bolt of white-hot searing pain flashed through his head and around his wound, and he stared at the gun, his vision blurring. "I bet it's not even loaded." 

Her reaction to that was worrying to say the least. She pulled a wicked smile, followed by a cackle, her pupils visibly narrowing and the dull blue irises darting around the room as she spoke, unable to focus on what was right infront of her, almost as if something else was happening in the room. "Well, you see. I could shoot it and prove to you that it is, but then I've wasted a bullet and attracted unneeded attention. You can keep assuming that it's not, but are you really willing to take that chance?" 

"show me a bullet then I might fucking listen." 

"Gladly, my dear boy." She took out the chamber for a few seconds, showing the bullets. They were clearly real, and right there. Eight of them. 

Viktor had never moved faster in his life when he made a move to try and grab the gun. 

"Big mistake."


	13. Mother knows best, part three

Viktor was thrown to the ground, his balance was already offset, and he fell backwards against the wall. The IV line was ripped out of his hand and his head hit the wall, blood began to visibly seep through the dressing that had been placed on his stitches. He felt his body move after the fall, his brain feeling like it was flipped like a wrecked car. The action reminiscent of too many events through his childhood. Nausea struck him like a bullet to the stomach, and he felt his eyelids growing heavier by the minute as his consciousness threatened to slip away. Black dots crawled in the corners of his eyes and ate away at his past stability as he tried his hardest to grip onto what strength he had left.

"Yuuri..." he mumbled, a desperate wince on his face as he reached his arms out around him to feel any source of comfort as his mind began to white out from the pain, stress and panic of the situation. Tears dripped from his eyes, and the ever-growing pit in his chest was choking him. His head rattled excruciatingly, and he faced away from her. 

Yuuri moved towards Viktor like a magnet, every cell in his body screaming at him to help. He felt tears began to stab at his eyes as his muscles began to tremble, the catch in his throat becoming unbearable. Seeing his husband like this, so desperate, far less like the champion he used to idolise and now like a desperate and scared child. He was sure this had to be a nightmare. 

"No you fucking don't." She aimed her gun at her son-in-law, following him with it as he slowly stepped backwards. "Don't fucking go near him you stupid faggot." 

"He needs a doctor, he's not well-" Yuuri began, cut off by Viktor curling up into a desperate heap in the corner, his nausea culminating in throwing up over the floor, blood dripping from his hand and mixing with it in a disgustingly chilling sight. "He needs help now." 

"Bullshit. he's fine." her voice was thick with disdain. 

"No, he's not. Please, let me go get help," Yuuri moved to the door, jumping when she walked up to him, holding the gun to his forehead, the cold metal of the barrel against his flushed face was sickening. 

"Mama..." Viktor's desperate groan drew their attention, making their heads whip around to face him. His voice was scared, small, diminished, despairing and needy. He looked up slowly, his face was deathly pale and his expression was exhausted and worn. "Please... do whatever you want to me, just don't hurt him..." 

"Why do you care so much?" 

"I love him...He matters far more than I do. You didn't come here for him, did you?" His voice wavered as he began to cry, cursing himself as the pain became unbearable, like fireworks going off behind his eyes. "Just what is it you want from this?what is this going to fix?"


	14. Mother knows best, part four

"It will fix everything, my love. Let mama help you," She moved closer to her son, her face dropping when he cowered away with what little strength he had left. "let me help. I'm sorry I hurt you baby. I didn't intend for that, okay?" Galina picked him up and helped him to the bed, the gun resting awkwardly against him. 

"Mama please... It hurts... get me a doctor..." 

"I can't do that, my love." 

"Galina, his stitches have burst. he's hit his head again and thrown up, he needs a doctor. A second head injury will cause..." Yuuri said between shaky breaths, watching as he saw blood begin to trickle down the side of Viktor's face, noting how pained and scared he was, his heart tearing in two. "It will be okay, just hold on, Vitya..." he whispered, unsure if it would have any effect. 

"What use is he to you if he bleeds out and dies? or if his brain is damaged?" The teenager finally mustered the strength to speak. "You told me yourself, earlier. You want him. Let him get the help he needs." 

"BOTH OF YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP RIGHT NOW OR I SWEAR TO GOD I WILL PUT A BULLET RIGHT THROUGH YOUR FUCKING EYES!" she yelled, her voice cracking with the sheer pain and near psychotic desperation it carried. She waved the gun between them, a strange sense of concern lighting her features for a fleeting moment of rationality when she noticed that Viktor's blood was all over her hands. She looked horrified, but that was quickly masked. The band that was holding her hair back snapped, taking a few strands with it as it fell to the floor behind her. 

"Please... Mama... stop... I... don't... I don't want this... let them go..." Viktor's voice was desperate and exhausted, his eyes fluttering as his head rolled to the side, his speech trailing off as the creeping darkness overcame his vision again. 

She looked behind her, her heart dropping at the sight. It was enough to make her drop the gun for a few seconds, falling to her knees at his bedside, maternal instincts overcoming her psychotic rage momentarily. She traced her hands over his features, noting the sadness and fear and hurt laced in his face, trying to stop him from falling into unconsciousness. 

Yuri crept towards the bed, moving ever so slowly, snaking his hand through the gap that was made, jumping when she grabbed his hand and pushed him away, taking the gun in her other one. "Get a doctor. to stabilise him, wake him up so we can talk. they stay in here. you will move five steps out of the door exactly to call for help. I count them. You take a single step further I shoot you straight in the spine, Plisetsky. I mean it. One doctor only. You understand?" She repeated the last part in russian, watching as the teen nodded with his hands in the air. 

"Yes ma'am." he said slowly as he walked to the door.


	15. mother knows best... or does she?

"This just in," the newscaster spoke as the visuals for 'breaking news' flashed on the screen. "confirmed shots fired in the ED of the central hospital in the city capital. the assailant is unknown, but has been confirmed to be holding hostages. it's unclear what their demands are. we'll bring you more as it comes."


End file.
